


Home Again

by Khylara



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: After five years apart, Michael and Peter are finally together again.
Relationships: Michael Cole/Tazz
Kudos: 2





	Home Again

Fic: Home Again  
Author: Khylara  
Fandom/Couple: WWF(It is for this) M Cole/Tazz (Peter) (Like you're  
suprised? What ELSE have I've been scribbling?! :)  
Disclaimer: They're not mine - I promise to put them back  
eventually. Also, "Home Again" isn't mine - belongs to Barry Manilow  
and Marty Panzer.  
Rating: Definitely NC 17  
Feedback: Yes, especially for this, please either on or offlist at  
[melmast@...](mailto:melmast@...).  
Distribution: Yes to "Not Every Thug" if you ladies would like it.  
Please don't post until I get it all up, though, okay?:)  
Sequel: To "Even Now", which is buried on the list somewhere. Yet  
another installment of my Barry Manilow challenge from upteen months  
ago. Once again - Michael's POV  
Timeline: About five years in the future.  
Warning: extremely sugar-sweet sappy (I've been reading too many  
romance novels lately - blame them. And I have a weakness  
for "Happily-ever-after" with these two :) Also - veryveryveryvery  
LONG! Find a comfortable seat, folks - we'll be here for awhile.  
Synopsis: Michael & Peter rebuild their lives together after 5 years  
apart.  
Dedication: This is for Carikate, who specifically asked to see this.  
I'm slow, but it's DONE! Finally!  
Comments: First off -I started this WAY before there was talk of a  
split. Pretend it never happened. Also pretend the Alliance never  
got it's collective butt kicked at SS2001. In fact, just pretend the  
past year or so never happened for awhile, okay? :)  
  
This is the longest thing I've finished in quite awhile. Came to  
over 100 pgs handwritten by the time I was done. Blame my muses -  
everytime I thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel one of  
them would tap me on the shoulder and say "This happened, too."  
Couldn't shut them up for anything - and Tazz would scowl at me  
whenever I got stuck and I've said before I'm no match for a scowling  
Tazz.  
  
The other strange thing was the title - I literally didn't have one  
until the very end. (That's odd for me - usually I have a title and  
not much else) Took going through my albums before one slapped me in  
the face, and then I was wondering how blind could I get. :) The  
lyrics are below - I think they fit Tazz's frame of mind perfectly  
for this. The song is on Barry Manilow II for those who want a listen.  
  
***********  
Home Again  
by Barry Manilow & Marty Panzer  
  
Always and always, now  
Where there was just one there'll be two  
And you won't be alone again  
I'm home again.  
  
Over and over, now.  
We'll make up for the nights that we missed  
And kiss like we once kissed  
I'm home again  
  
Close your eyes, I'll close mine  
Remember how much we once had  
And babe I'm so glad  
To be home again  
  
Love you, I love you now  
There's no one but you in my life  
And I won't let you go again  
See I'm home again  
  
Love you, I love you now  
Oh more than anything else in my life  
And I won't let you go again  
I'm home again  
I'm home again  
I'm home again  
yes I'm home

Home Again  
by Khylara  
  
I sat on the couch in my living room, an impossibly wide grin on my  
face even as I blinked back tears. Why? because my arms were full.  
I was holding close the two people I cherished most in the world - my  
daughter and my partner. The light of my life and the love. The one  
constant presence and the one I had almost given up on returning.  
  
But he had. Peter was home.  
  
I couldn't call it anything else but a miracle.  
  
Sabrina pulled away from Peter long enough to take in my wet cheeks  
and frown. "Daddy, why are you crying?" she asked, tilting her head  
an sounding so much older than seven.  
  
"Daddy's happy, honey," I sniffed, wiping my eyes with the back of  
my hand. "Sometimes when people are happy, they cry."  
  
I could tell that she didn't really understand that, and I couldn't  
blame her. I didn't either. "So you're happy, Daddy?" she persisted,  
eyes wide.  
  
"Very, very happy." I met Peter's dark eyes with my own. "I've  
never been happier."  
  
He reached over and brushed his finger along the edge of my  
beard. "Me, too," he said softly. "Gonna try to keep it that way for  
both of us. Okay, Mikey?"  
  
I nodded, swiping at my eyes again. Damn the tears. I was having a  
hard time stopping them.  
  
Jsut then, Sabrina yawned hugely, sagging in Peter's arms. I glanced  
at the clock and immediately got up, my mind fully on my little  
girl. "Okay, back up to bed with you. You've got your field trip  
tomorrow, remember?"  
  
She scrambled off Peter's lap, holding her teddy bear with one hand  
and tugging on Peter's with the other. "Will you both come tuck me  
in?" She asked plaintively, looking at both of us with those wide  
eyes of hers. "Want both of you."  
  
"Sure, sweetie," Peter said immediately, squeezing her little  
fingers. "You gotta let me go for a minute, okay? Uncle Tazz needs  
both hands to get up."  
  
"Need a hand?" I ofered as he reached for his cane.  
  
He shook his head. "Nah. I can manage. Knee's a little better." He  
planted the cane in front of him and struggled to his feet, wincng as  
he did so. He looked up and managed a weak smile. "There. Not  
exactly graceful..."  
  
I surveyed him critically. "How bad?" I asked point-blank. "Tell me  
the truth."  
  
"Later," he said shortly, glancing at Sabrina. Which told me what I  
wanted to know. It was bad enough that he didn't want Sabrina to  
hear. "Just...can you grab my bag? There's stuff I need."  
  
"Sure." I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder, swallowing  
hard. I hated hearing the obvious pain in his voice; it was so  
unlike the Peter I used to know.  
  
Sabrina stood my the foot of the stairs. "Did you hurt your leg  
wrestling?" she asked softly.  
  
He forced himself to smile. "Yeah, sweetie, but it's not too bad.  
Uncle Tazz just needs the cane so he doesn't fall." He changed the  
subject. "You've got a trip tomorrow, huh? Where to?"  
  
She chatted happily as she climbed the stairs, with Peter slowly  
making his way up behind her and me bringing up the rear, turning off  
lights as I went. I dropped the duffel off in my room before  
following them into Sabrina's. Who was still talking a mile a minute;  
I don't know where she gets her energy sometimes.  
  
"Bed, Sabrina." I cut her off gently. "You've got a long day with  
your friends tomorrow. You don't want to fall asleep halfway through,  
do you?"  
  
She shook her head and scrambled into bed, clutching Orange close to  
her as I pulled the covers around them both. "Good night, honey," I  
said, leaning down to kiss her. "Love you."  
  
Sabrina clung to me for a minute before kissing me. "Love you,  
Daddy." Letting me go, she reached for Peter. "Love you, Uncle  
Tazz."  
  
I couldn't help smiling as I watched Peter visibly melt under  
Sabrina's attention. "Love you, too, sweetie," he said, kissing her  
as well. "G'night."  
  
She laid back against her pillow. "Are you gonna be here in the  
morning?" she asked.  
  
He nodded. "I'll be here. Promise," he said, reassurring ehr yet  
again. Considering everything, though, I couldn't blame her for  
asking. I was having a hard time keeping my hands off him in order  
to keep reassurring myself that he was back, safe and sound.  
  
Well...that wasn't the only reason I was having trouble keeping my  
hands to myself.  
  
Satisfied for the moment, Sabrina snuggled under the covers and  
closed her eyes. She was asleep before we left the room.  
  
We crept out as quietly as we could and I clicked off the light  
before closing the door part-way. I left the dim hall light on,  
though. "She doesn't like it dark all the way," I explained softly.  
  
He nodded. "I can't believe she still has that bear," he commented,  
his voice full of wonder.  
  
I smiled. "I don't think she's let it out of her sight for more than  
two seconds since you gave it to her."  
  
There was a long, awkward silence as the two of us stared at  
eachother. My heart was hammering so loud in my chest that I was  
sure Peter could hear it. And Peter looked a littler nervous, a  
little uncertain as he leaned on his cane, the pain he was in etching  
new lines on his face.  
  
Pain. "Do you have something for your knee?" I asked, racking my  
brain to see if I had anything that would help. "I have asperin, I  
think."  
  
"In my bag. The doc gave me something before I left Russia." He  
rubbed his eyes. "It helps, but I didn't want to take any before I  
came." He gave me a wan smile. "They throw me for a loop."  
  
I could understand that. "I'll get them. You stay here." He didn't  
even argue; all he did was nod tiredly and lean against the wall for  
support as I went back into my room.  
  
I found the pill bottle easily and shook out two, reading the label  
with a frown. It was no drug I had ever heard of and after caring  
for Karen I knew most of the major painkillers. I made a mental note  
to try dragging him to my doctor sometime in the very near future.  
  
Getting a glass of water, I went back out into the hall and handed  
them to him. He tossed them back and drained the glass. "Thanks."  
  
I put the glass back in the bathroom. "How bad?" I asked quietly when  
I went back.  
  
"I didn't take anything today. And the rain didn't help. Usually  
it's not this bad." Peter shrugged. "I'll be okay once the pills  
kick in."  
  
I caught the note of testiness in his voice and smiled a  
little. "Sorry. Didn't mean to fuss."  
  
He met my eyes. "It's okay," he said after a moment. "I kinda like  
you fussing. No one's done it in a long time."  
  
The silence returned as we stood and stared at each other, wondering  
what the next move should be. "So," Peter said," breaking  
it. "You've got a spare bed handy or am I bunking out on the couch?"  
  
Impulsively I pulled him close, winding my arms around his neck. "The  
only place you're sleeping is with me."  
  
Peter didn't say anything right away and for a moment I thought I had  
presumed too much. Like I said, five years is a long time apart.  
Then, to my relief, Peter grinned and wrapped his own arms around  
me. "I was kinda hoping you'd say something like that," he said,  
brushing his finger along my cheek. "I've missed you, baby."  
  
A shiver ran through me; I had forgotten what just a whisper of  
Peter's touch could do. "I've missed you, too, love," I murmured. "So  
much." I mirrored his gesture, running an invisible line along his  
beard, pleased when he shivered as well. "Let me show you?" At his  
nod, I took his hand and led him down the hall.  
  
Peter's brow furrowed in confusion as we went into my room two doors  
down from Sabrina's. "I thought your room was down there," he said,  
gesturing further down the hall.  
  
For a moment I was suprised, but then I remembered that he had been  
one of the ones who had helped me and Karen move in. "It was," I  
said, a sad little smile crossing my face as my throat  
tightened. "After Karen died, I moved my things down here. It's  
closer to Sabrina's - she was having nightmares around then and I  
wanted to be close by." I paused. "And there were just too many  
ghosts. To many echoes. You know?"  
  
A sympathetic look appeared on Peter's face. "Yeah, I know." he  
paused. "I'm sorry, babe. I should've been here for you."  
  
"I wasn't much good for anyone then," I said softly, remembering the  
long nights when it had jsut been me and Sabrina and our shared  
grief. Firmly, resolutely, I set my memories aside and gave Peter a  
smile. "And you're here now. That's all that matters." With that, I  
wrapped my arms back around him and drew him into a kiss.  
  
The cane clattered to the floor as Peter's hands slid up my body to  
cup my face. The kiss deppened and intensified as our tongues  
tangled, memory returning. I sighed as Peter nuzzled my ear; that's  
always been one of my weak spots, guarenteed to leave me wobbly in  
the knees. "Peter..."  
  
"Too fast for you, baby?" he asked as he drew away a little, concern  
in his dark eyes.  
  
I immediately shook my head. "Not fast enough," I corrected, pulling  
him back into our kiss.  
  
His hands went to my shirt, undoing buttons, brushing against bare  
skin. "You've been working out," he commented, his fingertips  
grazing one of my nipples. "Nice."  
  
"There's equiptment down in the basement," I breathed. "and I still  
golf...when I get the chance." My breath caught in my throat when  
Peter ducked his head down to lick at my nipples. "Oh...God..."  
  
"You're so beautiful, babe," he murmurred as he moved back and forth  
between my nipples, licking then until they ached. His hands slid  
down my abdomen to the waistband of my jeans. "I forgot how  
beautiful...gotta see the rest of you..."  
  
I plucked at his sweatshirt; if I was going to be naked he was,  
too. "Off," I ordered. "Want to see you, too."  
  
He hesitated for a moment before doing as I asked, the sweatshirt  
going over his head and landing on the floor. "Not much has changed,"  
he murmured, ducking his head.  
  
"A few things," I corrected, running my hand over his head. He had a  
full head of hair now, still buzzed short, but it wasn't the stripe  
down the middle that I was used to. "I like your hair like this." I  
moved my hands lower, going down his chest, doing my own  
teasing. "And you've lost weight."  
  
He shrugged. "Couldn't help that. Have you ever eaten Russian  
food?" When I shook my head he made a face. "It's pretty  
disgusting. There were times when I would've killed for a decent  
hamburger."  
  
I couldn't help laughing. "I'll have to get out the grill and cook  
you a decent meal," I said as I glanced over the familiar tattoos  
that covered his arms. I caught a spot of color on his shoulder -  
except for the cartoon Taz on his upper arm, his are all blackwork  
and older from his days with ECW. This one was fairly recent at  
first glance - the colors were bright, the lines were sharp and  
clean. "When did you get this?" I asked, leaning in to take a closer  
look.  
  
"Right before I left for Russia. Before the Alliance went all to  
Hell," he said quietly. "Another reminder."  
  
I was about to ask what he needed to be reminded of when I finally  
realized what it was. At first glance it looked like a highly  
intricate Celtic knotworked oval done in shade of blue, green and  
purple. Looking more closely, however, I caught the shape of a heart  
inside the oval and a set of initials.  
  
MC. The initials were mine.  
  
I straightened and brushed my lips against his. "It's beautiful."  
  
"Yeah. The guy who did it, he specialized in stuff like that," he  
answered, ducking his head. "I was keeping Tommy Dreamer company  
while he was getting one when I saw the design on his wall." There  
was a pause. "Do you mind?"  
  
"Why should I mind?" I was extremely moved, to be honest. Peter  
doesn't get tattoos for the hell of it; his are all very personal  
reminders of different stages of his life. For him to sit through  
what much have taken hours...for a reminder of me...  
  
I brushed a kiss across it and straightened, smiling. "Why would I  
mind when I got a reminder, too?" I slipped off my shirt, exposing  
the tattoo I had on my own upper shoulder.  
  
His eyes widened as he brushed his fingers across  
it. "Where...how..." he stammered.  
  
"Same situation as you," I answered. "I was keeping Adam Copeland  
company while he was in the chair when I saw this on the wall and  
thought of you." It was a smaller replica of the tribal sun Peter  
had on his shoulder.  
  
Without another word Peter leaned forward and brushed his lips  
against the tattoo, sending a jolt of arousal straight through me,  
Groaning, I cupped his face in my hands and pulled him into another  
kiss. I couldn't get enough; I could kiss him forever and it wouldn't  
be enough. Not after five years apart from him.  
  


We kissed for I don't know how long, each one becoming more intense  
than the last. My hands slid down Peter's bare chest to the  
waistband of his sweats. "Can I take these off you?" I asked softly.  
I wasn't sure why; it just felt like something I had to do. Another  
step in our reunion.  
  
"Mikey, you can do anything you want," Peter answered, his voice just  
as soft. "You don't have to ask."  
  
"Anything, huh?" Well, I didn't need any more of an invitation.  
Sweats and shorts were soon around his ankles, leaving him exposed to  
my gaze. He was as heartstopping as I remembered, with his strong,  
solid body and dusky cock jutting proudly from the mass of dark curls.  
  
I gently pushed him into a sitting position on the bed. Untangling  
his feet, I spread his legs as I fell to my knees. "Then I guess  
you're okay with something like this, then." Without waiting for a  
reply, I leaned forward and slid my mouth over his erect cock.  
  
Peter let out a long, drawn out groan and immediately buried his  
fingrs in my hair. "Oh...fuck, baby...I forgot...I forgot how good  
you do that..." His breath quickened. "So good...God, it's been too  
damn long..."  
  
He was right. It had been too long. Five years. Five years since  
I've tasted him like this, my tongue sliding over his hardness, the  
thick, musky smell of him filling my senses. Five years since I felt  
the hard muscle of his thighs under my fingers as I listened to that  
sweet Brooklyn laced voice of his moaning my name. Five years since  
I've done this to anyone, not just him.  
  
I was out of practice, but I don't think he noticed if the sounds he  
was making was any indication. It was a powerful feeling, hearing  
those moans and knowing I was the one making him sound like that. It  
was one of the rasons why I always loved doing this.  
  
Peter's hands slid down my arms to clasp mine, his entire body  
stiffening. "Baby...Mikey, I'm gonna come..."  
  
It was meant to be a warning, but I took it as added incentive. I  
tangled his fingers with mine and sucked even harder, leaving no spot  
untouched. A moment later, Peter's body bucked hard against mine and  
I vaguely heard him cry out my name as he spurted down my throat.  
  
I swallowed greedily; he was as delicious as I remembered and I  
didn't want to miss a drop of his thick sweetness. I was still  
licking him clean when he tugged at my hands, drawing me up so he  
could kiss me before burying his face in my shoulder.  
  
That scared me a little; he's never done that before. I'm usually the  
clingy one. I slid my arms around him and brushed a kiss by his  
ear. "Peter? Love, you okay?"  
  
He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah. It's just...it's been so  
long..."  
  
An ache filled my heart; I knew exactly what he meant. And it wasn't  
just the sex, although I had missed that as well. But I had missed  
the caring, the affection, the love even more.  
  
"Wasn't there anyone?" I asked softly, smoothing my hand back and  
forth over his closely shone head. I wouldn't have minded if he had  
said yes; I can understand being lonely.  
  
"Just Beverly," he said, referring to his ex-wife. "And even  
then...I was away so much." There was a pause. "And the Alliance  
guys...I wasn't close to any of them. Not even the ECW guys. I had  
friends...but everybody was out for themselves, watching their own  
backs." He lifted his head up, meeting my eyes. "You don't  
know...well, yeah, you do...but it was so lonely..."  
  
"I know," I breathed, resting my forehead against his. "I know." It  
had been awful without him, especially after I lost Karen, even with  
Sabrina to worry and fuss over.  
  
He was quiet for another moment, then I felt a hand slowly slide up  
my leg. "I'm sorry, babe. Didn't mean to forget you."  
  
"No rush." My cock was still achingly hard, but I wasn't about to  
push. I bit back a groan as his hand moved to the front of my jeans,  
rubbing my trapped erection. "Oh God..."  
  
"Maybe there's no rush for you," Peter commented with a grin. "but  
there is for me. It's been too long since I've seen you like this,  
all hot and bothered and sexy." he rubbed me a little harder and this  
time my groan was audible. "Let me take care of this for you?"  
  
All I coudl do was nod, but he didn't need any more encouragement.  
My jeans and briefs were soon around my ankles and I standing in  
front of him as naked as he was with his hands slowly going over my  
ass. "So damn beautiful," he breathed as his hands moved to my  
cock. "I've missed seeing you like this, baby."  
  
My hands went to his shoulders, clurching them for support as I  
watched Peter stroke my cock. It was nothing I haven't done for  
myself, but it took on an entirely different meaning with Peter  
caressing me. Those hands...those wonderfully strong, gentle hands.  
It had been too long since I've felt his wonderful hands on me.  
  
Peter leaned closer, nuzzling my ear. "Tell me what you're thinking  
about," he murmured as he stroked. "Talk to me, Mikey."  
  
I gasped, shivering under his touch. He wanted me to talk  
now? "Thinking about you," I managed to get out. My eyes raked over  
his body, resting on his cock, which was already beginning to harden  
again. "Want you to make love to me."  
  
"Thought I was," he purred, chuckling. "Unless...you want something  
like this?" His free hand slid back to my ass, going between my  
cheeks to brush against the opening to my body with the tip of a  
finger.  
  
That was all I could take. My entire body jerked hard against him  
and I choked back a cry as I spurted come all over Peter's milking  
hand. It was everything I had missed and more.  
  
But it wasn't enough. I needed - we both needed - more.  
  
Taking his come-slick hand, I pressed it against me. Peter took the  
hint and moved between my legs, getting me ready. I whimpered as he  
worked a finger inside me; I was tight. Five years without Peter had  
turned me into practically a virgin again.  
  
Peter brushed a kiss against my lips. "Relax, baby," he  
whispered. "Let me make this good for you."  
  
"Already is," I gasped. "Gonna make it better." I thought quickly;  
there wasn't too many positions we could use that didn't strain  
Peter's knee. "Lie down. On your back."  
  
Peter obeyed, pulling me down with him as he sank into the  
pillows. "You gonna ride me, Mikey?" he teased, one hand running up  
my leg.  
  
I groaned, shivering. My orgasm had only served to take the edge  
off; my arousal had returned almost immediately, leaving me wanting  
more. "You keep talking like that and we won't get very far," I  
warned as I straddled him. "Is this okay? I won't hurt you knee,  
will I?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. It's good. Perfect." Cupping the back of  
my head, he pulled me into a kiss. "Love you, baby."  
  
"Love you." We both moaned as I lowered myself onto his cock.  
  
When he was all the way in I stopped, swallowing hard. It hurt. Not  
as much as I thought it would, but it still hurt. Peter's more than  
a handful to get used to, especially after so long.  
  
"God, baby, you feel good." Peter breathed. "So damn  
good...hot...and tight...you okay?"  
  
I nodded. "Yeah. Just getting used to you again." I smiled,  
bracing myself with my hands on his shoulders. "You're not exactly  
little."  
  
"And it's been a long time," he continued, his hands sliding around  
my waist, touching wherever he could reach. "Take your time. Don't  
want to hurt you."  
  
"You could never hurt me," I said before leaning down to capture his  
lips again.  
  
We kissed until I started to rock against him and Peter began coaxing  
my hips up and down. Soon I was bucking hard against him, driving  
Peter deeper me with every thrust, every move. And every one of  
those thrusts was sending a bolt of lightning through me so intense  
that it was all I could do to keep from screaming.  
  
One of Peter's hands held me steady while the other caressed me  
wherever he could reach, pinching my nipples erect, skimming over my  
abdoment, brushing over my cock. Finally, his hand stopped at my own  
and clapsed it, twining our fingers together. "That's it, baby," he  
breathed, his dark eyes wide and fixed on my face. "Come on,  
now...come for me, Mikey baby."  
  
"No," I managed to get out. God, I was so close...so damn  
close... "With me...want you with me."  
  
I felt his shudder, heard him let out a little groan. "Fuck,  
Mikey...baby, I'm with you. Let it go." He tightened his hold on  
me, moving with me, teetering us both on the edge. "Come with me..."  
  
That did it. Those last whispered words sent me over. Letting out a  
choked-off little wail, my entire world went nova as I came all over  
the both of us. Peter's climax deep inside me a moment later only  
served to intensify mine, leaving me shaking and shattered and for  
the first time in five years, whole.  
  
I literally fell into Peter's outstretched arms, burying my face in  
his shoulder as both of us tried to catch out breath. I let out a  
whimper of protest as he slipped out of me and his hand immediately  
slid up my back, gently rubbing as he brushed a kiss along my temple.  
  
The kiss was what did it, I think. He used to do the exact same  
thing after making love before. It's just a little gesture, meant to  
comfort us both. This time, it shattered my already fragile control  
and the tears that I had been holding back for so long came.  
  
Peter immediately tightened his hold on me as I began to  
sob. "Mikey...baby, don't. It's okay. Don't cry. Please, don't  
cry. I'm here." He gently rocked me back and forth, burying kisses  
in my hair. "Shh, now, baby. I'm right here. I won't let you go."  
  
He was still whispering to me when I drifted off to sleep with my  
head on his broad chest, his heartbeat a steady, comforting sound in  
my ears and his arms securely wrapped around me.

The next morning I woke to the sound of someone snoring in my ear. I  
lifted my head up and smiled. Peter was sprawled out on the bed, one  
arm flung over the side while the other held me securely next to  
him. I couldn't help letting out a happy little sigh; I was tired  
and sticky, but for the first time in a long time I was content.  
  
Carefully sliding out from Peter's arm, I brushed a kiss across his  
forehead. /Let him sleep,/ I thought indulgently as I got up.  
  
And immediately winced. I'd definitely need a hot shower, not just  
to clean up but also to steam the ache away. Peter had been gentle,  
but it had been a long time since I'd had the kind of loving he had  
given me the night before.  
  
It had definitely been worth it, though.  
  
Peter was still sleeping soundly by the time I was showered and  
dressed, which was a little surprising; he's usually a light sleeper.  
But then I couldn't blame him for being so tired; last night had been  
eventful to say the least.  
  
/He's probably still jet-lagged, too, poor darling,/ I mused, tucking  
in the comforter a little more securely around him. I wondered for a  
moment just when he had flown in from Russia; he couldn't have been  
back in the US for long.  
  
I pushed all my questions aside for the time being; everything could  
wait until Peter was up, dressed and coherant and we both had some  
coffee in us. I slipped out as quietly as possible, leaving the door  
open part-way.  
  
Sabrina was already downstairs watching cartoons. "You're up early,  
honey," I commented, smiling. She was already dressed, too; her  
purple flowered turtleneck tucked neatly into her purple corderoy  
pants. That doesn't happen often - most mornings I have to get her up  
and moving.  
  
"Daddy!" She scrambled off the sofa, throwing her arms around my  
neck as I bent down to her level. She kissed my cheek before drawing  
away a little. "I'm up 'cause I'm gonna see the turtles today."  
  
Well, that explained the up part. "You're going to see a lot more  
than turtles today, honey," I said, my smile growing by the minute.  
Today was her class trip to the aquarium; to say she had been looking  
forward to it was a gross understatement. "Remember the book we  
looked at? You'e going to see a whole lot of different fish."  
  
"Like turtles the best," she declared firmly. Ever since seeing a  
special on Animal Planet about sea turtles she had been fascinated by  
them.  
  
I couldn't help laughing. "Okay, honey, but before you go, let's get  
some breakfast in you." Letting her go, I shooed her into the  
kitchen.  
  
Sabrina was munching on her cereal and I was pouring out a cup of  
coffee when she asked, "Daddy, is Uncle Tazz still here?"  
  
I had been expecting that question; in fact, I was suprised she  
hadn't asked it earlier. "Of course he's still here," I said. "He  
peomised he'd be, didn't he?"  
  
To my suprise, her chin began to quiver. "Then where is he?" she  
demanded, her voice very close to a wail. "When I got up I  
looked...and he's not in any of the other rooms...and he's not down  
here...he's not anywhere!"  
  
Uh oh. I hadn't expected to deal with this so fast; I had wanted  
Peter with me when I tried to explain us to my little girl. But I  
wasn't going to get that chance, not with Peter still asleep and  
Sabrina so close to tears. But how do you explain something this  
complicated to a seven year old in a way she'd understand? And it had  
to be the truth; I wasn't about to lie to her about this.  
  
Finally, I decided on simple. "Uncle Tazz is sleeping in Daddy's  
room," I explained as matter-of-factly as possible, trying not to  
blush, praying she'd just accept it and not ask too many questions.  
At least, not right now.  
  
That stoped the chin quivering, at least, but not the  
questions. "He's sleeping in your room?" I nodded. "On the floor?"  
  
"No. In Daddy's bed. It's big enough for two people." I took  
another sip of my coffee, hoping she wouldn't ask why.  
  
She did, of course. "Why?" Her nose wrinkled in confusion. Then,  
before I could think of a way to explain the truth she did it for  
me. "'Cause he don't want to be alone?"  
  
I sighed with relief. "Yeah, honey. Because he doens't want to be  
alone anymore. And neither does Daddy." Peter was probably going to  
kill me for this...but it WAS the truth. An over-simplified version  
of the truth, maybe, but it would do for now.  
  
She was quiet for a moment, then she asked," Can I go up and see him?"  
  
I immediately shook my head. "Uncle Tazz is still sleeping, honey.  
He had a long day yesterday." And the last thing he needed was to be  
jolted out a sound sleep by a seven year old jumping all over him.  
Especially since he wasn't wearing anything under the comforter I had  
put over him. "You can see him when he wakes up. Okay?"  
  
She considered that for a moment. "Okay." She went back to her  
cereal. "Can I have peanut butter for lunch?"  
  
I relaxed. No more questions. Atleast for the time being. "Sure.  
I'll fix it right now."  
  
After I packed her lunchbox and finished my coffee I poured out  
another cup. "Finish up. okay? Your Aunt Gabi will be here in a  
littlw while to pick you up. I'm going to take this up to Uncle  
Tazz." She nodded and I went back upstairs.  
  
Peter was stillasleep when I came in, but his eyes flickered open  
when I got close enough for him to smell the coffee. He rubbed his  
eyes and gave me a sleepy little smile. "Hey, babe."  
  
I smiled as well. "Hey, yourself." I held up the cup. "Thought you  
could use this."  
  
He immediately sat up. "Is that real coffee?" Taking a sip, he let  
out a happy little sigh. "Thanks, babe. This was one of the things  
I really missed."  
  
I sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. "They didn't have  
coffee in Russia?"  
  
"Not like this. What they had...I don't know what it was made of but  
it certainly didn't taste like this." he wrinkled his nose. "I kinda  
got used to tea, but I never did like it much." He took another sip  
and leaned toward me. "By the way...good morning."  
  
"Good morning." Our lips met in a long, satisfying kiss.  
  
When we finally parted he had a silly little grin plastered on his  
face. "And that's another thing I missed," he said, his eyes  
sweeping over me. "My morning sugar."  
  
I couldn't help blushing; that was one of the many nicknames Peter  
had for me, only this one he used only after lovemaking. "I missed  
it, too."  
  
A hand slid up my leg. "How are you?" he asked softly. "Okay?"  
  
My hand moved over his; I knoew exactly what he was talking  
about. "I'm okay," I reassurred him. "A little sore...but it's a  
good sore." I paused. "How's your knee?"  
  
He shrugged. "Okay. I have good days and bad. Today's probably going  
to be one of the in the middle ones."  
  
"Have you had a doctor look at it?"  
  
He shook his head. "Not since I've been back, but then I've only  
been back three days. Stopped by my parents and my brothes before I  
came here." He smiled. "They didn't welcome me back nearly as  
enthusiastically as you did."  
  
"I should hope not," I teased. "By the way, just warning you that  
Sabrina's probably going to be all over you when you come down. She  
got upset when she couldn't find you this morning."  
  
"Fuck. I didn't even think of that." He ran a hand over his face,  
looking worried. "She okay?"  
  
I nodded. "She was fine once I told her you were sleeping in Daddy's  
room."  
  
He nearly choked on his coffee. "You didn't."  
  
"I did. I'm not going to lie to her about this. It's too important  
to all of us." My voice was firm. "Are you okay with that?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess. Your call, babe. I'll go with whatever you want."  
He still looked worried, though. "Is she? I mean...how'd she take  
it?"  
  
"Once I told her you were still here she was fine," I said. "She  
wanted to come up and see for herself, but considering everything," I  
indicated his nakedness with a smile. "I didn't think you'd  
appreciate it."  
  
"Good call." he paused. "What about...my sleeping in here?"  
  
"I told her neither of us wanted to be alone anymore. It's the  
truth, and it works for now." I paused. "But one day soon we're  
going to have to sit her down and try to explain this to her." I  
smiled at his worried expression. "Don't look so worried, love. I  
think she'll be okay with it as long as her Uncle Tazz stays here."  
  
"Hope so. The last thing I want is to screw things up by being  
here," he said seriously.  
  
"You won't." I promised, kissing him again before changing the  
subject. "I'll call Vince and see if we can get in to see him today.  
You get cleaned up while I fix us breakfast and get Sabrina out of  
here." I stood up. "Hungry?"  
  
"Yeah. But Mikey...babe, you don't have to fuss."  
  
I kissed him again. "I like fussing over you," I said seriously as I  
picked up his cane and handed it to him. "Bathroom's through there,"  
I waved to the closed door at the other end of the room "And your  
duffel's at the foot of the bed. Was that all you had?" I had  
noticed going through his bag last night that he didn't have much.  
  
"There's two suitcases in the back of the truck. Everything else I  
sold before I left for Russia for start-up money." he paused. "And  
what I had over there...it wasn't much, but I sold just about  
everything just to get plane fare back here."  
  
Which meant he literally had nothing. It explained a lot, especially  
about his knee. He had probably spent what little he had left on  
doctors and hospitals.  
  
I kissed him yet again, lingering a little. Well, he wouldn't have  
to worry about any of that now. Vince was sure to take him back. And  
if for some reason he didnt, I was more than capable of taking care  
of him. the question was would he let me.  
  
Reluctantly, I let him go. Kissing him was beginning to feel  
entirely too good and we both had too much to do to start  
anything. "I'll see you downstairs. Don't be too long if you want  
to see Sabrina before she goes, okay?"  
  
"I won't," he promised. He pushed the sheet and comforter aside and  
all I could do was stare. Oh, I had missed seeing him like  
this...naked and so close to perfect. It was all I could do not to  
drop to my knees in front of him right then and there.  
  
Peter caught me looking at him and blushed. "You keep looking at me  
like that and you're gonna get jumped," he warned with a smile.  
  
That shook me out of my daze. "Maybe later," I promised with a smile  
of my own. I quickly left the room before I went back on my word.

"Uncle Tazz!"  
  
From my place by the stove in the kitchen I heard running footsteps  
and a soft thud, followed by a grunt. Looking out I saw Sabrina  
wrapped around one of Tazz's legs, clinging to him as if her life  
depended on it as she began to babble about not being able to find  
him earlier.  
  
"Where were you?" she demanded as she let go and followed him into  
the kitchen. "I looked and looked...Daddy said you were in his room."  
  
"I was, sweetie," he said as he limped into the kitchen behind her.  
  
"Are you gonna be sleeping in there with Daddy from now on?" Sabrina  
asked, brown eyes wide.  
  
It was an innocent questiosn and I knew the motivation behind it, but  
I still had to hide my face in a dishcloth to disguise my shock. It  
definitely wasn't something you expected from a seven year old.  
  
Peter was shocked as well. I could tell by the panicked look that  
crossed his face for a split second. After a moment, he swallowed  
hard and answered her. "Yeah, sweetie. From now on." He looked up  
at me. "If...that's okay?"  
  
I smiled and nodded. I wasn't suprised by the question; asking  
permision was just one more thing Peter needed to do, it looked like.  
Even after last night, it still had been a long time. "I wouldn't  
have it any other way," I said softly, basking in his own answering  
smile for a moment before glancing down at my barefoot  
daughter. "Honey, go find your shoes and socks. Your Aunt Gabi will  
be here in a little bit." She scampered off and I turned my  
attention back to my lover. "And you...come and eat something before  
you dissappear."  
  
Peter snorted as he sat down. "This from a guy who weighs about as  
much as a toothpick," he muttered. "And now many times did I say the  
same to you, especially when you were up to your ears in work?"  
  
"I lsot count," I said as I scooped scrambled eggs and sausage onto a  
plate. I took two pieces of toast out of the toaster, added them  
onto the plate and put it on the table in front of him. "Here.  
Eat. And don't get too used to it; most mornings I don't have time  
to cook."  
  
"Hey, I can do cereal as well as the next guy," Peter retorted good-  
naturedly as he dug in. "And next time I'll cook." At my raised  
eyebrow he frowned. "I can cook."  
  
"Something other than pigeons?" I asked as I sat down across from him  
with my own plate. We traded stares for about thirty seconds before  
we both burst out laughing.  
  
"I called Vince while you were getting dressed," I said as I buttered  
my toast. "He fit us in at 11:30."  
  
"What did he say?" he asked as he took a sip of his coffee.  
  
"Just that I had a solution to the announcer problem." I smiled. "I  
want to see what Vince will do when he sees you standing next to me."  
  
Peter shook his head. "Hopefully not throw me out on my ass."  
  
I was about to rebuke him a little for his overly (at least to me)  
negative attitude when Sabrina came running back in, sneakers on and  
perfectly tied. "I'm all ready, Daddy." She peered at our plates,  
wrinkling her nose at the eggs. "Can I have some toast, too?"  
  
Peter immediately put his on a napkin and pushed it over to  
her. "Here, sweetie. You can have mine." He caught me looking at  
him and shrugged. "Never liked toast. Not really.'  
  
I didn't say anything as I put butter on Sabrina's toast as well.  
Peter was definitely nervous; he doesn't eat if he is. I couldn't  
think why he was so jittery, though; Vince was sure to take him back,  
especially since the replacements since Kevin has left have been so  
bad. We need someone who knows what he's doing at the commentator's  
table - Hell, I need someone that I not only can get along with, but  
bounce things off of. And Peter more than fit the bill.  
  
We spent the rest of breakfast listening to Sabrina go on about the  
sea turtles she was going to visit that day, the two of us trading  
smiles and smoldering looks over our coffee. It was a good thing she  
was there in a way, because if she hadn't been I would've thrown  
Peter across the table and had my way with him right then and there.  
Which wouldn't have been good for him or the table.  
  
I was just putting our plates into the sink when I heard a knock on  
the back door. Before I could answer it, it opened and in came my  
younger sister Gabrielle. She was one of the teachers at Sabrina's  
school and since her class was joining Sabrina's she had offered to  
drive them both in today.  
  
"Morning! Are you...Oh!" She stopped, a surprised look crossing her  
face when she saw Peter. "I didn't know you had company, Mike."  
  
I caught how her voice changed, from her normally bubbly, this-close-  
to-annoying tone to the dull, flat one she used when she dissapproved  
of something. I've heard that tone too often in the past few months;  
She thinks I should settle down in a 9 to 5 job and find another  
woman to marry. "For Sabrina's sake", she always says. Never mind  
that the two of us were doing okay with how things were. I couldn't  
wait to hear what she had to say about this when I told her  
everything. And she was going to want everything; she wouldn't let  
it go until she had it, I could tell right then.  
  
"Hi, Gab," I said keeping my voice as neutral as possible as I put a  
hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're a little early."  
  
"You know how bad traffic can get." There was a frown on her face  
now; she obviously didn't like the fact that I was touching Peter in  
front of her. Well, tough. It was my house, damn it. "Who's  
your...friend?"  
  
"Peter Senerchia, my sister, Gabrielle Hogan." I introduced.  
  
Peter offered a smile. "Pleased to meet you."  
  
The smile wasn't returned, just a quick nod. "Likewise." Gabrielle's  
tone was flat and cold and I could feel my anger grow with every  
passing moment. The least she could be was polite.  
  
"Uncle Tazz," Sabrina corrected us firmly. "He came back, Aunt Gabi!"  
  
"Yes, I see," she said curtly. "Are you ready? We have to go."  
  
Sabrina looked back and forth at us, her lip quivering. She knew  
something was wrong; Gabrielle usually wasn't so harsh with  
her. "Daddy?" Her voice wavered and I knew she was about to cry any  
moment.  
  
"It's okay, honey," I said quickly, kneeling to her level. "Are you  
done with your toast?" She nodded. "Then why don't you go upstairs  
and wash up? Brush your teeth, too." That way if Gabrielle did try  
to start something, she wouldn't hear.  
  
"Okay." Climbing out of her chair, she headed for the stairs at a  
run.  
  
Peter must've sensed the tension as well, because he got up,  
too. "I'd better do all that too if we're going to see Vince," he  
said. "I'll hep with the dishes when I come back down."  
  
I smiled gratefully; granted, I didn't want to be alone with my  
sister, but I also didn't want him in the middle of this,  
either. "Thanks." I watched as he followed my daughter up the  
stairs.

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  * 


## 551Fic: Home Again (6/17)

_Expand Messages_

  * melmast1970

Nov 17, 2002

Here we are. I'm trying folks...please be patient :)  
  
*************  
Gabrielle barely waited until Peter was out of earshot. "When did he  
show up?" she aked point-blank; she doesn't waste any time, I'll say  
this much for her.  
  
"Last night," I said as I poured another cup of coffee. I held it  
out to her. "Want some?"  
  
She shook her head abruptly. "Don't try and change the subject. How  
long is he staying?"  
  
I took a sip. "Hopefully Sabrina and I can convince him to stay  
permanently." I couldn't help smiling as I remembered Sabrina's  
request from the night before, making Peter promise to "never ever  
never" leave the two of us again.  
  
Gabrielle's eyes widened. "Perm...You're kidding, Mike, right?" Her  
frown deepened. "You mean you'd actually let someone like that live  
here?"  
  
That raised an eyebrow. "Someone like that?" I repeated. "And just  
what kind of a person do you think he is? Considering you met him  
for all of two seconds."  
  
"I don't have to know him any longer than that to see what kind of a  
man he is," Gabrielle retorted. "He looks like he just escaped from  
prison. I assume he's one of your degenerate wrestling friends."  
  
"One of my wrestling friends, yes," I corrected mildly, trying to  
stay under control. I didn't want this to turn into a shouting match  
for Sabrina and Peter to overhear. "Degenerate is the last thing he  
is. If you get to know him a little better you'd see that." She  
looked horrified at the idea, which hurt a little, but I pushed it  
aside. "Your loss, but you might want to consider it, at least.  
Because he will be living here from how on and he will be a part of  
this family." I saw her frown deepen and I added, "And you will be  
at least civil to him, especially when you're standing in my kitchen."  
  
"Michael, he can't live here!" Gabrielle exclaimed. "What's gotten  
into you? You certainly weren't like this before." She shook her  
head. "I think maybe you've been alone too long."  
  
"Maybe I have," I agreed with a little smile. My smile became even  
wider as I remembered last night's lovemaking. "But that won't be a  
problem anymore now that Peter's here."  
  
She sniffed. "I didn't mean it like that," she corrected  
primly. "You need to get married again, Mike. Sabrina needs a mother  
and you...it's not good for you to be all alone."  
  
"I'm not alone. Sabrina's here." I contradicted. "And now Peter's  
here, too."  
  
An exasperated look crossed her face. "That's not what I meant."  
  
"Well that's exactly what I meant." I leaned against the counter and  
took another sip of my cup. Time for the bombshell. "I'm in love  
with him, Gab."  
  
Her eyes widened. "What?!"  
  
"I'm in love with him," I repeated, still smiling. "Peter isn't just  
a friend. We're lovers."  
  
Silence. Complete and total silence. It's mot often that I get to  
shut Gabrielle up. After a moment of staring at me, she began to  
stammer, "But...but...he's a man!"  
  
I couldn't help it; I started to laugh. "Yes, he is. Very much  
so." Peter had more than proved that last night.  
  
She glared at me and continued. "And you're not gay!"  
  
"Some of my co-workers might not agree with you," I commented. It's  
a long standing rumor backstage that I bat for the other team. They  
were saying it long before Peter and I got together the first  
time. "And technically I am since I'm in love with another man."  
  
"You're not gay," she repeated firmly. "You're confused and probably  
lonely and that...that person," She jabbed her finger in the  
direction Peter had gone. "is taking advantage of that...and you."  
  
"That's the last thing he'd do. If you knew him you'd see that," I  
contradicted. "And the last thing I am is confused about how I feel  
about him."  
  
"Oh, really. You've never shown the slightest interest in men before  
this. And now all of a sudden he shows uo and wham!" She snapped her  
fingers. "You're gay?!"  
  
"I'm not interested in other men," I told her truthfully as I put my  
cup down. And I really wasn't. It was the whole package with Peter,  
not just the fact that he was a man. "I'm just interested in Peter."  
  
"And what about Karen?" Gabrielle shot back. "What about your wife?"  
  
My anger rose even more as an ache filled my heart. How dare she try  
to use Karen's memory to make me feel guilty about this! Well, it  
wasn't going to work. "Karen is dead," I said bluntly. "She's been  
dead for almost three years. I like to think she'd be glad that I  
wasn't alone anymore."  
  
"I'm not saying you have to be alone, Mike," she replied  
testily. "But this...This isn't normal. Find a nice woman."  
  
"I had a nice woman. I had a wonderful woman. Now I have a  
wonderful man. And this is normal for me." I paused, my voice  
softening a little. "He makes me happy, Gab. Happier than I've been  
in a long time."  
  
I thought that might sway my sister a little, but I was  
wrong. "Well, I can't see how a degenerate relationship like this  
could possibly make you happy," she huffed. "And what about Sabrina?"  
  
"What about Sabrina?" I asked. "We haven't explained things to her  
yet, but she's happy that her Uncle Tazz is finally home."  
  
"And how happy is she goign to be if he...if he...you know...does  
something to her?" she asked, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper.  
  
My anger turned into pure rage, a rage that I barely kept in check  
just because I didn't want Sabrina to hear. "I can't believe you," I  
breathed. "How could you even THINK...Peter would NEVER hurt her!"  
  
"How do you know?" She shot back. I could almost hear the  
desperation in her voice. "You don't know!"  
  
"I know!" I yelled back, letting my temper get the better of me for  
a moment. "I've known him for years! I KNOW what kind of a man he  
is! He would NEVER hurt Sabrina!" I took a deep breath, forcing  
myself to calm down. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to do,  
but you're not changing my mind." I met her squarely in the eye and  
told ehr how it was going to be. "This is my house. Peter will be  
living here from now on. He's going to be a part of this family.  
And if you can't accept that - if you can't be at least civil to the  
person I've chosen to share my life with - the person I love," I  
swallowed hard. "then you won't be welcome in this house anymore."  
  
Tears filled Gabrielle's eyes as she put her hand over her  
mouth. "Mike...you don't mean that," she said softly. "You can't.  
You can't mean to choose that man over your family."  
  
"I can when my family is being an empty-headed bigot who refuses to  
hear my side, who won't even consider how I feel about all this." I  
countered, folding my hands across my chest. "I'll say it again,  
Gab. I love him. He makes me happy. And he's staying." I picked my  
cup back up and took another sip. "It's up to you whether or not you  
accept it."  
  
We both heard running foorsteps and the slow, steady thump of Peter's  
cane. "We'll discuss this another time," Gabrielle informed me  
crisply; she's used to getting her own way with things.  
  
Well, she wasn't going to with this. "As far as I'm concerned,  
the discussion's over." I put my cup in the sink and turned toward  
the kitchen door as Sabrina came running in.  
  
She held up her clean hands. "I washed my hands."  
  
I smiled. "Good girl. Here. Let's get your jacket on." I got her  
jacket off the back of the chair.  
  
"I helped Uncle Tazz wash up, too," she said as she put her arms  
through the holes.  
  
"You did, huh?" I zipped her up and looked up at Peter, who was  
standing near the doorway. "Hope you didn't make too much of a mess."  
  
"Nah. We cleaned it up." Peter gave my daughter a fond smile. "She  
just showed me where you hide everything."  
  
"Remind me to give you the tour later on," I said as I put Sabrina's  
lunchbox into her backpack and helped her get it on. "All ready?"  
Sabrina nodded. "Okay, then. Be good for your teacher and Aunt Gabi  
and have a good day."  
  
"Okay." She wrapped her little arms around me and squeezed. "Love  
you, Daddy."  
  
I gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek. "Love you too, honey."  
I said. "Say hi to the turtles for me."  
  
She let me go and wrapped herself around Peter's leg next. "Love  
you, Uncle Tazz."  
  
He brushed a hand over her long brown hair tenderly. "Love you, too,  
sweetie. Have fun."  
  
She looked up at him. "Will you be here when I get home?" she asked,  
her brown eyes wide.  
  
Peter smiled. "I'll be here. Promise." Very gently he pushed her  
toward the door. "Go on. You don't want to be late." She took the  
hint and ran out the back door, slamming it behind her.  
  
Gabrielle paused at the back door, staring at the two of us. "I'll  
see you later, Mike? You'll pick Sabrina up after school?"  
  
I nodded. "We have a meeting with Vince, but it shouldn't go past  
three. I'll be there." I hoped Gabrielle would at least have the  
decency not to grill Sabrina about any of this and put her in the  
middle, but it was a faint hope at best. Like I said, she's used to  
getting her way.  
  
"All right, then." Shpooting a last, narrow look at Peter, she  
followed Sabrina out the door without so much as a good-bye.  
  
I waited until she pulled out of the driveway before I let out a  
heavy sigh. That definitely hadn't gone well, and knowing my sister  
it was going to get worse before it got any better. Especially when  
it came time to tell my parents. Which was something I'd have to do  
soon, or Gabrielle would do it for me.  
  
Peter put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm not gonna ask how it went," he  
said softly.  
  
"Minor disaster." I put my hand over his. "I kept telling her you  
made me happy, but she didn't get it. Kept going on about finding a  
nice woman and how depraved we were." I glanced over my  
shoulder. "She also wasn't impressed with you."  
  
"Kinda guessed that by the look on her face," he commented. "Not the  
first time that's happened. Bev's folks wrinkled up their noses at  
me when they first met me, too." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter."  
  
"It matters to me." I was angry and hurt. Why couldn't she accept  
me chocie for what it was? Why couldn't she be happy for me?  
  
Peter's arms slid around me. "Ah, hell, babe, I'm sorry." He buried  
a kiss in my hair. "Maybe I should find another place to stay."  
  
I immediately turned to face him, shaking my head. "No."  
  
"Just a little while," Peter continued as if he didn't hear  
me. "Until everything settles down."  
  
"No." I said, even more firmly than I did the first time. "I don't  
care what she thinks. I'm not letting you go."  
  
Peter's eyes widened. "But...babe, she's your family."  
  
"You're my family," I said firmly, cupping his face in my  
hands. "You and Sabrina are my family. I said before that I wasn't  
going to let my sanity walk out the door and I'll be damned if I'm  
going to change my mind just because my sister is a homophobic  
bigot." My tone softened. "I love you. I want to share my life  
with you. If Gabrielle can't handle that, then it's her problem." I  
paused. "But I'm not going to hide how I feel and I'm not going to  
let you go. Not when I just got you back."  
  
Peter didn't say anything. He simply pulled me even closer and  
proceeded to kiss me breathless. I melted into his arms. losing my  
self in that kiss. It was perfection and exactly what I needed.  
  
When he drew away, I laid my head on his shoulder. "Thank you," I  
murmured. "God, I needed that."  
  
"Kinda thought so." Peter said softly. One hand began rubbing my  
back to ease the tension there. "By the way, I love you, too."  
  
"I know." A thought crossed my mind and I looked up. "You  
know...we've got the whole house to ourselves."  
  
"Yeah?" The back rub turned into a caress as a slow smile spread  
across his face. "When is our meeting with Vince again?"  
  
"11:30." I checked the clock; it was just past nine. Taking his  
hand, I led Peter back toward the stairs. "We've got plenty of  
time. For a few things, anyway."  
  
"A few, huh?" Peter's smile became even wider. "Can't wait to see  
what you've got in mind..."




After a few things ( and a shared shower that had led to a few more -  
I had forgotten how much Peter liked showering with me) we got into  
my car and headed over to Titan Towers. Luckily I don't live far, or  
we would've definitely been late.

Pulling into the parking lot, I stopped my car and undid my seat belt,  
about to get out when I noticed Peter hadn't moved. "Peter?"  
Reaching over, I clasped his hand. It was cold and slightly clammy  
to the touch. He was still nervous? "Love, you okay?"

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "I was just thinking, that's all."  
He licked his lips, his eyes never leaving the gleaming building in  
front of us. "What if...what if he doesn't want me back?"

I had been expecting that question. I tightened my hold on his hand  
and gave him a reassurring smile. "He will," I said, letting my  
confidence show in my voice. "He'd have to be crazy not to."

"But what if he doesn't?" Peter's voice became even softer. "What  
then, Mikey?"

"Then we'll find you something else to do." I paused for a  
moment. "You know, you don't have to find something right away."

He immediately shook his head. "No." he said firmly. "I'm not gonna  
live off you."

"It's not living off me," I said, my voice just as firm. "It's  
sharing a life together."

He was silent for a moment, then he shook his head again. "I hear  
you, babe. I do. But I can't." he turned to meet my eyes, his own  
pleading for understanding. "You see, don't you?"

I nodded reluctantly. If there's one thing's Peter's always been,  
it's proud. He hates asking for help from anyone. "If Vince doesn't  
want you - and I can't imagine why he wouldn't but if he doesn't -  
there are at least a dozen different wrestling schools who would jump  
at the chance to have you on board as a trainer."

He brightened a little at that. "I do like teaching the kids," he  
admitted, a smile appearing. "You think I could? Even with this?"  
He patted his bad knee.

Smiling as well, I leaned over and brushed a kiss across his  
lips. "I think you can do anything."

"And I think you're a little biased, babe," he commented wryly. He  
ran a finger along my cheek, thinking for a moment. Finally, he  
said, "Okay. If Vinnie Mac doesn't want what I got I'll start  
checking out the schools. And if that doesn't work...well...I'll  
come up with something." He turned his attention back to  
me. "You're being awfully patient with me, you know?"

I kissed him again, my lips lngering against his. "After everything  
you've been through you deserve a little patience," I sai  
quietly. "Okay now?"

"Okay now." His fingers tightened around mine. "As long as you're  
with me."

"Always," I breathed, my heart aching. I wasn't suprised that he  
needed the reassurrance; if it was me, I'd need it constantly, too.

Getting out of the car, the two of us went in and headed up to  
Vince's office. Peter was still quiet, too quiet, so I reached for  
his hand again in the elevator. "It'll be okay," I  
whispered. "Whatever happens, it'll be okay." He didn't say  
anything; just gave me a brave little smile and squeexed my fingers  
before letting me go as the elevator doors opened.

Vince was waiting for us by his secretary's desk. "Michael," he  
greeted, shaking my hand. He's become a little more approachable over  
the years, not as tyrannical. Maybe becoming a grandfather had  
something to do with it. "You mentioned you had a solution to our  
problem?"

I smiled. More approachable, maybe, but he still never fails to get  
down to business. "I hope so," I said, turning to Peter, who was  
standing in back of me.

It took a moment for Vince to recognize Peter. it had been five  
years, after all, and the cane combined with the full head of hair  
and the weight he had lost had changed him drastically, down to his  
very personality. he wasn't the street tough, spoiling for a fight  
Brooklyn thug anymore and it showed. When Vince finally did realize  
who he was a grin crossed his face and he held out his hand. "Well,  
I'll be damned," he said, shaking Peter's. "It's good to see you,  
Tazz."

Peter looked a little uncomfortable being called by his old ring  
name, but he smiled just the same. "Likewise, Sir."

He motioned us both into his office and sat down in one of the black  
leather chairs not far from his desk, gesturing for us to take the  
sofa in front of him. "What happened?" he asked, indicating the  
cane, the limp.

"Blew out me knee teaching in Russia," Peter explained as he sat down  
awkwardly.

Vince's eyes widened and he looked at me. "We never did try Russia."

I shook my head. "I never thought to." At peter's confused look, I  
explained. "When the Alliance folded and you didn't come back I  
looked for you. Mr. McMahon tried to help by contacting some of the  
independents."

"Betwee the two of us I think we covered every inch of the US," Vince  
added with a smile. "Not to mention just about every country we  
could think of. I didn't know they were starting things up in  
Russia." He paused. "Anyone promising?"

Peter shrugged. "Mostly farmkids who've seen too many of Rocky's old  
pay-per-views. Good kids, but they don't see all the hard work  
before the glory, you know?" He thought a moment. "There's one or  
two who might be ready for Ohio Valley in a few years."

Vince looked thoughtful; I could almost hear the wheels  
turning. "Worth looking into, do you think?"

Peter shrugged again. "Maybe. If the guys who run the school I was  
teaching at keep the kids working with the training program I left  
them, then yeah. They're pretty good with the basics." he  
paused. "I was planning on keeping in touch."

"Might be a good idea. Never really gave a thought to Russia," Vince  
mused.

"Wrstling's pretty popular there." Peter added. "We always had a  
crowd for ou exhibitions, as bad as they were. And the tapes of  
American stuff is hard to come by; it's mostly Japan and bootlegs."

Vince gave a decisive nod as he picked up a pad from his desk and  
made himself a note. "We'll have to look into making our presence  
known over there," he said. "Now. back to our problem. Did Michael  
fill you in on our current announcer situation?"

"Yeah, a little. Said you were having a hard time filling the spot  
next to him." Peter suddenly frowned. "And I saw the kid you had  
with him."

"Mmm, yes." Vince looked at me. "Michael, I know you're trying with  
Jason..."

"I know," I agreed before he could finish. "He's not working out.  
he'd probably be better with one on one interviews than at ringside.  
I think the crowd scares him a little too much."

"Yes, I've noticed that." There was a pause. "And you and Tazz have  
always worked well together before." Vince turned his attention back  
to Peter. "Would you be interested in coming back? As a color  
commentator," he clarified. "We're top heavy on the roster right  
now; there's no room for you to wrestle."

"That's okay. I couldn't...you know...do anything in the ring  
anymore, anyway." Peter swallowed hard and patted his knee. "The  
doctors...they said I was lucky to be able to walk on it at all.  
Wrestling's out of the picture."

Vince frowned. "Doctors over there? Have you had someone over here  
look at it? From what little I've heard about Russian medicine, it's  
not very advanced."

Peter shook his head. "Haven't had time. I just got back to the US  
four days ago. Saw my family, then I showed up on Mikey's doorstep  
last night." there was a pause. "And even if there had been  
time...I'll be honest with you, Vince. I'm dead broke."

And understanding smile suddenly crossed Vince's face. "well, you  
won't have to worry about that. We can put you right in at the level  
Jerry and Paul are, which is a little less than Michael." He  
paused. "And we'll see if something can be done about that knee,  
too."

I knew what Vince was thinking. "Dr Andrews in Birmingham?" I said  
hopefully; he was still the best in the business. If anyone could  
help Peter, he could.

Vince nodded. "I'll get in touch with him later today and we'll see  
when he can fit you in for an evaluation." he paused. "It might be  
a few weeks, but if he can help you, make it so you don't need the  
cane anymore, no promises, mind you," he suddenly warned, a serious  
look on his face. "but we could use you back on Tough Enough if you  
were interested."

Peter visibly brightened at that and I remembered what he said in the  
car about loving to teach. "I'd like that."

Vince nodded and smiled. "We'll keep that in mind for the future,  
then. But for now," He held out his hand. "Would color commentator  
at ringside do for the time being?"

Peter grinned. "It'd do me just fine." He reached out as  
well. "Thank you, Sir. Really."

"Welcome back, Tazz." I couldn't help grinning as well as the two of  
them shook hands again. "Stop by downstairs and fill out the  
paperwork; we'll get all that started right away." A concerned look  
crossed his face. "You said you just got back. Do you have a place  
to stay or do you need help finding one?"

Peter turnedto look at me and I reached over, putting my hand over  
his. "He's staying with me," I said firmly; let him make that out  
however he wanted to.

Vince looked at our clasped hands and nodded. "I see," he  
said. "I'd forgotten the two of you were...together."

Peter's eyes widened. "You knew?" he choked.

"Pretty much. You two worked so well together that I knew it had to  
be something." he gave us a wry little smile. "I'll say this much -  
you two were discreet and you never let it interfere with your work.  
I wish I could say that about half the roster." he sighed and  
changed the subject. "So I guess the next question is, when can you  
start?"

Peter shrugged. "When do you need me?"

The wry smile returned. "To be honest, we needed you about nine  
months ago when kevin Kelly left for greener pastures. Jason was the  
last in a long line of truly abysmal fill-ins." He paused, thinking  
for a moment. "Think you can get up to speed by Tuesday?"

Peter's dark eyes went wide again. "This Tuesday?" Vince  
nodded. "I'll try. I mean...last week was the first time I've seen  
anything since I wrecked my knee. It's been a few months...and even  
then we never got it on a regular basis. They'd preempt it for  
anything; it was never approved of even though it was popular. And  
they dubbed it over in Russian; I'd be lucky if I got half of it."

/Breathe, Peter,/ I couldn't help thinking, catching the panic in his  
voice. When he paused for air I jumped in. "I can get you caught  
up. I have the tapes at home." I turned to Vince. "How far back do  
you want me to go?"

"Just to Summerslam. Everything's firmed up for Unforgiven next  
week. there won't be any surprises." he suddenly  
chuckled. "Well...not too many. And nothing earth shattering."

Briefly I wondered how long he'd keep to that. Vince is always  
coming up with something last minute. Sometimes even last second.  
It used to drive me crazy, but I've gotten used to it over the  
years. At least he's not stepping into the ring anymore.

"Stop by the story department for the latest outline when you go  
downstairs," Vince continued. "That should help you out."

"Between that and the commentator's meeting we should both be up to  
speed by Tuesday," I answered, glancing at Peter for confirmation.  
He nodded a little too uncertainly, but he nodded all the same.

"Good." Vince paused. "Now about your entrance..."

Peter shook his head. "No special entrance or anything." At Vince's  
surprised look he explained. "It's been so long...and with my knee  
I'll be lucky if I don't fall flat on my face coming down the ramp."

Reluctantly, Vince nodded. "We'll need to do something to  
acknowledge your return," he pressed.

I jumped in again. "Peter can come down the back way alongside the  
ramp with me," I said. I turned to Peter, concerned. "That  
shouldn't put too much strain on your knee, should it?" he shook his  
head and I continued. "And I'll make an announcement at the top of  
the show welcoming you back. Something simple." I turned back to  
Vince. "Will that be okay?"

After a moment he nodded. "That should do." he paused,  
thinking. "Well, I think that covers everything. Unless the two of  
you have something to add?" We glanced at each other and shook our  
heads. "Okay then. I'll see you both at the commentator's meeting."  
he stood up and we did the same. "It's good to have you back, Tazz."

Peter grinned. "Good to finally be home, Sir." They shook hands  
again. "Thank you."

Vince looked pleased at that; he was still smiling when he turned to  
me. "And Michael...good thinking."

"Thank you, Sir," I said, grinning from ear to ear as we shook hands  
as well.

He ushered us both out to the elevator, waving us both off as we  
stepped inside. The moment the doors closed i threw my arms around  
Peter. "See? I knew he'd take you back."

Peter grinned as well, hugging me back. "Gotta admit it, babe, you  
called it bang on," he said. Guess that means I gotta start  
listening to you from now on." We both burst out laughing.

The next two days were hectic for both of us between preparing for

Smackdown and the next Pay-Per-View and Peter slowly settling in.  
But it was a nice feeling having another adult in the house to talk  
to; it had gotten lonely raising Sabrina alone. And the fact that it  
was someone I loved, someone I could share my entire life with, made  
it that much better.

There were a few problems. Gabrielle beat me to the punch with  
telling my parents about us - filled their heads with all sorts of  
crap, which was pretty amazing considering that she had met Peter for  
all of 30 seconds. But once they met him and saw how he was with  
Sabrina they became a little more flexible about having a new son-in-  
law. Mom's still not thrilled about it; she was holding out hopes  
that I'd marry again and give her more grandchildren, but she sees  
how happy Peter makes me, and that makes it a little better for her.

I wish I could say the same for Gabrielle, but I can't. Now she  
won't even come into the house if Peter's there. As if that's going  
to change anything; I love my sister, but I'm not about to give Peter  
up for her approval.

Sabrina noticed the change in Gabrielle as well. We were both  
sitting at the kitchen table working, me on bills and she in one of  
her coloring books when she stopped and asked, "Daddy, why doesn't  
Aunt Gabi like Uncle Tazz?"

I looked up from my checkbook. "I don't know, honey," I finally  
said, biting back the truth. Sabrina didn't need to know what a  
homophobic bigot her aunt was. "How do you know she doesn't like  
him?" God help me, if Gabi was badmouthing Peter in front of  
Sabrina...

"Her face squinches up, like this." She wrinkled her nose. "And she  
doesn't like me talking about him." She exchanged her blue crayon  
for a pink one. "Do you love Uncle Tazz?"

I turned to face her. "I love him very much," I said softly.

"As much as you love Mommy?"

My heart ached; Sabrina doesn't mention her mother much anymore. I  
don't think she remembers her all that well; she ws barely four when  
Karen died. "It's a different kind of love, honey. Mommy and Uncle  
Tazz are two different people." I paused. "I love them both."

"Is that why Aunt Gabi doesn't like Uncle Tazz?" she  
persisted. "'Cause you love him?"

"Maybe." I tried to think of a simple way to explain all this to  
her. "Some people think that me loving Uncle Tazz is a bad thing."

"Why?" she asked, frowning. "Uncle Tazz make you happy. How can it  
be bad if he makes you happy?"

"It's not bad, but some people think it is." At her confused look, I  
smiled gently. "I know, honey. I don't understand it, either."

She was quiet for a moment as she colored, absorbing everything I had  
said with a thoughtful look on her face that made her look so much  
older than seven. The she asked unexpectedly, "Are you gonna marry  
Uncle Tazz?"

My eyes widened; where had that come from? "Well I don't know,  
honey. He hasn't asked me." I said lightly. "Would you like that -  
me and Uncle Tazz getting married someday?"

She nodded immediately. "'Cause then he'd stay with us forever and  
I'd have two daddies." A frown suddenly crossed her face. "But then  
he wouldn't be Uncle Tazz no more, 'cause he'd be my daddy, too."  
She looked up at me with those beautiful dark eyes of hers. "Can I  
call him Daddy Tazz instead?"

A lump formed in my throat and I swallowed hard. Peter was going to  
melt into a puddle the minute he heard that. "You'll have to ask him  
yourself, honey," I said quietly. "But...I don't think he'll mind."

"Okay." Abandoning her crayons she climbed onto my lap and she wound  
her arms around my neck. "I love you, Daddy." she said, kissing me.

I held her close, burying a kiss in her long brown hair. I never  
cease to be amazed by my daughter, and I'm not about to start  
now. "I love you, too, Sabrina." Giving her a little squeeze, I  
reluctantly let her go. "Go wash up for dinner, okay?" She looked  
confused for a moment; I hadn't started anything. "I'm calling for  
pizza."

"Yay!" She started for the stairs at a run, but suddenly stopped at  
the kitchen doorway. "Daddy, Uncle Tazz is sleeping in the chair."

I looked out. Peter was fast asleep in the recliner, with Raw from  
two weeks ago on the TV and a notepad full of scribbles sagging in  
his grasp. I couldn't help smiling; the poor darling was running  
himself ragged trying to get up to speed on the roster and he was  
still trying to catch up on his sleep. No wonder he was tired.

"Let him sleep, honey. I'll wake him up in a little bit." I had to  
put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud as I watched  
Sabrina tiptoe around him and creep up the stairs.

After I called in the pizza order and cleaned off the table, I went  
back out to Peter and leaned over him. "Peter." No  
response. "Love, wake up." Still nothing. A gentle shake of his  
shoulder got a mumble and a head shake. Finally, I brought out the  
big guns; I leaned closer and kissed him.

After a moment, his hands slid around my waist and the kiss  
deepened. I chuckled and drew away, smiling as Peter's eyes  
flickered open. "Well, that worked. Have a nice nap?"

He gave me a sleepy little smile. "Mmm. Nice dream anyway." His  
hands slid down to my ass, squeezing it for a moment before letting  
go. "You and me on the beach, with the waves crashing over us. Just  
like in that movie we saw that time. Remember?"

"I remember." The two of us had gone to see a revival of "From Here  
To Eternity" one night way back when and spent most of the film  
necking in the back row. "I'm surprised you do, considering what we  
were doing for most of the film."

"Remember that part at least," he said, reaching up to brush a lock  
of hair back. "You're beautiful soaking wet...Maybe we could...you  
know...try it someday?"

I blushed. "Sounds nice." I mirrored his gesture, brushing my  
fingers over his face. He still looked tired, but not as bad as he  
did before. "Dinner will be here in a little bit." At his confused  
look, I clarified, "I ordered pizza."

"Sounds good." He got out of the chair and clicked off the TV. "I  
think I've got all the new kids sorted out, but do you want to quiz  
me when we're done?"

"Sure." I couldn't help but admire how hard he was trying; being  
prepared had always been a source of pride for him, but he was going  
above and beyond now. "You'll be fine, love. I'll be there with you  
and it's not like you won't be able to bring your notes with you."

"Yeah, I know. It's just...I gotta do this." he leaned over and  
kissed me, his dark eyes pleading. "Just bear with me, okay, babe?  
One I get through the first Smackdown, I'll be fine."

"Anything you need," I murmured, kissing him again. "You don't have  
to ask."

We washed up in the kitchen and I was in the middle of digging out my  
wallet when Sabrina came barrelling into both of us. "You're awake!"  
She crowed. "Were you very tired?"

"A little, sweetie. It's been a long few days for Uncle Tazz." He  
sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, wincing a little. "I'm not  
used to doing so much running around."

Peter had a point there and it was one I hadn't thought of. The two  
of us had been doing a lot of running - between meeting with Vince,  
dinner at my parents, last night's commentator's meeting (which had  
gone as well as I had expected with Paul literally beside himself  
welcoming Peter back and Jerry ignoring him) dragging him to my  
doctor (who had taken one look at the pain pills he was on and told  
him point blank that it was a wonder he wasn't dead already. Scared  
me half to death myself. He was due back in for a full work-up after  
we got back from Smackdown) and getting what he needed to settle in  
(Which had been practically everything. There hadn't been much in  
those two suitcases)no wonder he was tired. Add in our lovemaking  
and Sabrina and it was a wonder he wasn't passed out from exhaustion.

"I'm sorry," I said. He looked up, confused and I clarified. "All  
the running - I didn't think about you."

He shook his head. "Nothing to be sorry for, babe." he  
smiled. "Just not as easy to keep up with you as it once was, that's  
all."

I'll slow down for you then, old timer," I said, teasing him right  
back. "After all, I wouldn't want to leave you behind."

Sabrina interrupted our banter by leaning against Peter, a serious  
look on her face. "Uncle Tazz, are you gonna marry Daddy?"

A shocked look crossed his face. "Where'd you get an idea like  
that?" he asked, looking up at me.

I shook my head. "I don't know where she got it, but it wasn't from  
me. She asked me the same question not more than ten minutes ago."  
I hadn't expected Sabrina to pounce on Peter with that question so  
quickly, but then I hadn't expected it in the first place. I know  
I've never even hinted at it - not to anyone. Not even to myself.

I was so lost in thought that I nearly missed Sabrina's  
answer. ""Cause that's what people do when they love each other," she  
said seriously. "Daddy loves you. And you love Daddy." her  
brown eyes were wide. "Right?"

Peter ran his hand over her long brown hair, but he turned his eyes  
to me. "I love your Daddy very much, sweetie," he said softly. he  
turned back to my daughter. "And I love you, too. You know that,  
right?"

She nodded. "Uh huh. And Daddy loves me, too, 'cause he's my daddy  
and I love you both, too." She paused. "So when you get married can  
I call you Daddy Tazz instead?"

The shocked look returned to Peter's face, only this time he went  
white as well. "You...you want me to be your daddy, too?" he  
whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Really?"

She nodded again. "'Cause then you'd stay forever and ever."

"Aw, sweetie. C'mere." He pulled her onto his lap and held her  
close. "you don't ever have to be afraid of that, okay? I promised,  
remember? I love you both so much...I'm not going anywhere." He  
drew away enough to give her a tender look, brushing her hair  
back. "But...you can call me that if you want to." He looked up at  
me. "If it's okay with you?"

All I could do was nod; I didn't trust my voice. Going over to them,  
I wrapped my arms around them both and tried really hard not to cry.  
It was almost impossible. because I had finally gotten back what I  
had lost when my wife died. I didn't have a daughter and a lover  
anymore.

I had a family.

The three of us stayed like that, arms around each other, not saying a  
word, until the doorbell rang.

Later that night, just as I was about to turn over and let Peter have  
his way with me, he put a hand on my arm. "No," he said, his voice  
shaking a little. "Not like that."

I raised an eyebrow. We had been doing this side to side to avoid  
putting strain on his knee. But if he wanted to try something else,  
who was I to argue? I settled back into Peter's arms, a suggestive  
smile crossing my face. "Okay, how do you want me, then?"

He was silent for a moment, his face unreadable, then he leaned over  
and very gently kissed me. "In me," he breathed. "I want you in me."

My breath caught in my throat and I literally felt my heart skip a  
beat. He didn't...he couldn't mean... "You want me to..." I  
couldn't finish, but I didn't have to. He nodded, eyes wide. "But  
we've never...I mean...we haven't..."

He silenced me with another kiss. "I know," he whispered. "I think  
it's about time, don't you?"

I couldn't answer him. how could I tell him that while I loved him  
possessing me, my one fantasy was of his own surrender? It's  
something I've wanted to do ever since we first got together, but  
I've never found a way to bring up the subject. We haven't had a lot  
of time to ourselves to just talk since he's been home and  
before...well...Peter had been a lot more forceful, dominant, back  
then. And I hadn't really minded; like I said, I love the  
possession. Always have, always will. But there had always been  
that tiny unfulfilled desire for more lurking in the back of my mind.

Unfulfilled...until now.

"Peter...love, are you sure?" I asked, brushing my finger along his  
jawline and down the edge of his beard. "You don't have to."

"I want to," he said, mirroring my gesture. He suddenly smiled,  
pressing his body against mine. "And you do too, don't you, baby?"

I let out a low, strangled groan. Between the warmth of Peter's body  
and the images he was conjuring up my reason was quickly going out  
the window. "Yes," I managed to get out. "But only if you do, too."

"More than anything," He brushed another kiss against my lips as he  
ran his hands down my back to my bare ass. "I want to be yours, the  
exact same way you're mine."

I swallowed hard. Well, you couldn't get any clearer than that.  
Cupping his face in my hands, I gave him a long, deep kiss. "I love  
you."

The look in Peter's eyes spoke volumes. "Show me," he  
breathed. "Show me how much you love me."

I shivered, his deep, throaty purr sending a spark of desire through  
me. I looked him over, trying to figure out the best position for  
Peer to be in. "Turn over," I finally said. "On your stomach."

He frowned. "Do I have to?" he asked. "Want to see you, baby. See  
your face."

I nuzzled his ear as I gently manovered him over. "Can't love. Not  
with your knee." I ran my hands down his back, brushing kisses along  
his broad shoulders, outlining his tattoos with my tongue. "Want you  
to feel good. As good as you make me feel." I moved lower, kissing  
my way down his back. "Gonna drive you crazy."

"You already are." he groaned softly as I moved still lower, tracing  
my tongue along the crack of his ass. "Mikey..."

Taking the hint, I reached for the tube of lubricant on the bedside  
table and coated my fingers. I carefully eased one in; God he was  
tight. So tight that I had to ask, even though it bordered on  
nosiness, "How long has it been since you've done this?"

There was a pause, then Peter's quiet voice. "Never."

I stopped dead. "What?" I asked as I removed my fingers completely.  
I hadn't just heard what I think I did...did I? "What did you say?"  
I wanted him to repeat it, wanted to make sure before we went any  
further.

"Never," he repeated. "I've never been on the receiving end." He  
paused, taking a deep breath. "Never...never loved anyone enough to  
let them. Never trusted anyone enough...you know?"

I stared at his bare back, stunned into silence, my eyes stinging  
with unexpected tears. I knew Peter loved me - he's told me so a  
thousand different ways since he's been back. But the fact that he  
trusted me...not only not to hurt him, but to make it good...the fact  
that he trusted me not only with his heart but with his body, his  
soul...and he not only trusted me, he wanted me...in every way  
possible...

My quiet must've unnerved Peter a little; he turned his head enough  
so that our eyes met. "Mikey?" His voice had the faintest of questions  
laced through it. "Baby...if you don't want to..."

"It's not that," I said quickly, my own voice rough. I knew the gift  
he was offering; I had given him the same one so many years ago. I  
just wanted to be sure that he was doing it for the right reasons,  
that it wasn't just because he thought it was something I wanted. He  
had to want it, too.

I brushed my hand over his face, gasping a little when he kissed my  
fingers in passing. "Peter...love, are you sure?" I whispered. "I  
mean...we don't...you don't have to..."

"I do," Peter corrected. "I need this, Mikey. And I need you to do  
it." His lips brushed against mine. "Please, baby...love me."

The please was what did it, I think; it was the closest Peter's ever  
come to begging me. Without another word I kissed him a little  
harder and replaced my finger. If we were going to do this, then I  
wasn going to make damn sure I didn't hurt him any more than  
necessary. "Tell me if this hurts," I instructed, turning one finger  
into two.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Doesn't hurt...feels a little weird,  
though." I brushed against the hard bump deep inside him and he  
jumped. "Fuck, babe, what did you just do?"

I paused. "Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck, no! Do it again." I brushed against it again and the sigh  
became a long, shaky groan. "Oh God..."

Removing my fingers, I pressed myself against him, my arms sliding  
around his chest. He tensed a little and I kissed his ear, nuzzling  
it. "Relax, love," I murmured. "I won't hurt you, I swear, but you  
have to relax for me." I rubbed myself against him, letting him feel  
how hard I was. "You're going to feel so good when I'm done with  
you..."

"Feel good now," he gasped, taking one of my hands and kissing my  
fingers.

"You'll feel even better," I promised. I felt his tension ease, felt  
his body relax under mine little by little. I gave him a final kiss  
on the back of his neck. "I love you." Slowly, carefully, I slid  
inside him.

He was tight, tighter than anything I've ever felt before in spite of  
the preparation and I was really afraid of hurting him. But Peter  
arched into my touch, forcing me even deeper until I was sheathed in  
him all the way. I stopped then to catch my breath and I could feel  
him shaking a little under me. "Peter? Love, you okay?"

He let out a shaky little sigh. "Yeah...yeah, I'm okay, babe. God,  
how you feel....I can't say how you feel." He clutched the hand he  
was holding tighter. "I can feel your heart beating, Mikey...it's  
incredible..."

"So are you," I murmurred, kissing him. "You feel so good, love...I  
have to move..." I did have to do something, anything, I was aching  
so badly.

"Do it, baby...love me...Oh, fuck..." A whimper sounded deep in his  
throat as I slowly began to thrust. "Oh God...Mikey...harder...do it  
harder. Let me feel you."

He wanted harder? Well, I wasn't about to dissapoint him. "Like  
this?" I gave him a hard, deep thrust and he let out a hoarse  
cry. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes. Fuck, yes." He gasped, clutching at the sheets with his free  
hand. "Good...you feel so damn good, baby..."

I couldn't answer him; I was losing myself in my own growing haze.  
The closer I got to orgasm the faster I moved, until I was literally  
pounding him into the mattress. I couldn't help myself; Peter felt so  
damn good - tight and hot - and the noise he was making - every  
thrust was punctuated by a moan, a whimper, a sigh - only served to  
spur me on.

I leaned my head against his broad shoulder, a shudder running  
through me. Oh, I was close...so very close. But I wanted Peter  
with me. "Come on, love," I coaxed, giving him a thrust that tore a  
whimpering yell out of him. He was close,too; I could feel it. It  
wouldn't take much more to push us both over the edge. "Come for me."

he lifted his head out of the pillow long enough to shake it. "No,"  
he gasped. "Want you with me...need to feel you..."

Peter's trembling voice sent a jolt straight through me and I  
shuddered hard, closing my eyes. His body was trembling hard under  
mine, our hands were still clasped together, my heart was pounding in  
time with him and suddenly I couldn't take any more. I buried my face  
in Peter's shoulder to muffle my yell as I came hard, shooting deep  
inside him.

I was still coming when Peter's trembles turned into full-fledged  
shaking and he clutched my hand even tighter. "Mikey...oh, God,  
baby...Michael!" my name came out in a sob. "Michael!" it was all  
I could do to hold onto him as his own climax overtook him.

We both went limp, both of us breathing heavily, both of us  
overwhelmed by the intensity of our passion. When I found the  
strength to slip out of him Peter let out a little  
moan. "Please...no.."

"Shh, love. It's okay. I'm right here." I soothe automatically; I  
know how much I hate the split second between Peter laving my body  
and him putting his arms around me. I couldn't blame him for hating  
it, too. I turned him over so I could gather him close and was  
surprised to see tears on his cheeks. "Peter?" Fear clutched my  
heart; had I hurt him after all? "Love, did I hurt you?"

He shook his head and immediately cuddled close, his head on my  
shoulder, his arms wrapped around me. "No...I'm okay," he  
sniffed. "You didn't...God, you didn't. It's just...I've never..."  
He swallowed hard, obviously trying to get himself back under control  
and not doing very well. "It's never been...you know?"

He wasn't making a lot of sense, but I understood perfectly. After  
my own first time with Peter I had been so overwhelmed that I had  
sobbed in his arms for a good part of the rest of the night. Scared  
the poor darling half to death at the time. "I know, love," I  
whispered, my arms going around him. I kissed the top of his  
head. "First times...they can be pretty earth shattering."

"Should've gotten you to do that years ago," he sniffed  
again. "Shouldn't have waited...why in the hell did we wait so long?"

"You weren't ready then," I answered softly. And he hadn't been for  
whatever reason; I had just known instinctively not to push him back  
then. I ran my hand up and down his bare back, soothing him as he's  
soothed me so many times before, kissing him yet again. "And you  
were definitely worth waiting for."

"You were, too. I'm glad it was you...the first time." His eyes  
drifted shut. "Love you so much, baby..."

"Love you, too." I rested my cheek against his head, my own eyes  
closing. We fell asleep like that, tangled together so close that  
there was no beginning and no end, lost to everything but each other.

The next morning, I was awakened by the strong smell of freshly  
brewed coffee. Cracking open one eye, I saw a cup hovering under my  
nose. "Wake up, babe. We've got a lot to do today, remember?"

I sat up and took the cup away from Peter. "Thanks," I said, taking  
an appreciative sip. He may not be the best cook, but his coffee is  
definitely better than mine. "How long have you been up?"

He shrugged. "Not too long. Sabrina's up, too. She's downstairs  
eating her cereal." He suddenly smiled. "By the way...good morning."

I grinned and put my cup down long enough to slide my arms around his  
neck. "Good morning," I murmurred as he pulled me into a kiss.

After awhile, I broke away. "I think I like being woken up this way."

"I know I like doing it," Peter ran a finger along my jaw. "you look  
adorable all touseled and sexy."

I blushed as I put a hand on his denimed thigh. "How are you, by the  
way?"

"Fine." At my raised eyebrow he gave me a sheepish little smile, his  
cheeks dark. "Okay, I'm a little sore. But it's a good sore, you  
know?"

"Oh, I definitely know." I grinned, pulling him in for another kiss.

We traded kisses until it began to feel too good to continue. Peter  
was right; we had too much to do before our long drive to  
Philadelphia. No time to play.

Reluctantly, I drew away. "Okay, I'm up," I said. And I was - in  
more ways than one.

Peter grinned. "So am I." Taking my hand, he put it on his crotch  
so I could feel his erection straining against his zipper.

Well, that definitely felt too good, so I jerked my hand away. "Cut  
it out. We don't have time."

"Is that really what you want to say?" he asked, a mischevious  
sparkle in his eyes as his hand snaked under the sheet covering me  
and began travelling up my leg.

I put my hand over his, stopping him. "No, but we really don't have  
time." I glanced at the clock on the wall. "We have to drop Sabrina  
off before we go and she's due in at 9:30." It was already a little  
past eight.

For a moment he looked ready to argue with me, but he finally sighed  
and drew his hand away. "Okay, I guess," he grumbled. "But you're  
definitely gonna get pounced on eventually."

I stole one more kiss before I forced myself to draw away from him  
completely. "I can hardly wait."

After we dropped off Sabrina, I pulled onto the highway, the two of  
us trading small talk off and on. It was conforting; we had done  
this so many times before that it was alot like the five years that  
had seperated us had never been.

It had though. "So tell me whose still here," Peter said as we  
drove. At my puzzled look he clarified, "I know we watched the  
tapes, but I was so keyed up about keeping all the new guys straight  
that I missed a lot of the old faces."

I knew that wasn't the only reason; I could tell by the look on his  
face. Peter's never been good with silence when he's nervous, and he  
was definitely nervous now. And I couldn't blame him.

"A lot of the older guys left while you were gone," I said. "'Taker  
retired from the ring about two years ago; everything just got too  
much for him injury-wise. Kane's still here, though - he's tagging  
with Bradshaw now because Ron is on Tough Enough with Al Snow and Bob  
Holly. Trish is with them, too. Austin retired after the Alliance  
folded; his knee was giving him too many problems." I let out a  
little sigh at that; I had been glad to see the rattlesnake go. "Not  
a lot of the Alliance guys came back, but Rob Van Dam did. Tommy  
Dreamer."

"Tommy's still here?" A smile crossed Peter's face. "Be good to see  
him again. What about Spike? The Dudleys?"

"There's a whole Dudley group now. It's Spike, Bubba, D-Von, a  
cousin of theirs Mitch, Molly," at Tazz's raised eyebrows, I  
elaborated "She finally married Spike, so she's Molly Dudley now, Big  
Daddy Dudley and a half-sister Sally." I laughed. "Sally comes out  
with a frying pan that she brains everyone with. And they're still  
crashing through tables; even Molly's into it now."

Peter chuckled as well. "Nice to know some things don't change."

"I don't think they ever will." I racked my brain for names he'd  
remember. "Jericho is out with a broken neck; he won't be back for  
at least another six months. Christian, too. Hunter blew out his  
knee again; he's not wrestling, but he's doing his best to create  
havoc backstage. Rocky's a big time movie star now."

"I know. I saw his last movie while I was over in Russia." Peter  
shook his head. "it was weird, having him open his mouth and hearing  
Russian come out of it. But what I got out of it looked pretty good."

It was. I went to see it with Lillian and Jackie. We'll have to  
rent it when it comes out so you can see it in English." I sped up a  
little to pass a winnibago. "Stephanie had a baby. That's why Vince  
is in such a good mood these days; he's finally a grandfather."

"He's not still getting into the ring, is he?"

"No, thank god." I remember how everyone backstage used to be on  
pins and needles whenever he got into the ring. "Granted, he still  
looks good for pushing 60, but one day he just decided that was it."  
I paused. "Rumor backstage says it was doctor's orders."

Peter shrugged. "Wouldn't surprise me." he paused. "Shane?"

I shook my head. "No one knows where he is, not even his family. He  
dissappeared right after the Alliance went belly up."

"He was pretty messed up while I was with them," Peter said  
quietly. "I know he was drinking; he used to join me at the bar some  
nights. And he and Lance and Booker used to do lines just about  
every night out in the open where anyone could join in. A lot of the  
guys did - it was a regular thing." He frowned suddenly. "he was  
doing a lot of other stuff with Booker and Lance, too."

I can imagine," I said dryly. Shane had done a lot of the same while  
he had been backstage here.

A shudder went through Peter. "I don't have to." At my raised  
eyebrow he continued. "Out in the open, like the coke. And anyone  
could join in - guys, girls, ring crew, backstage people. It was a  
regular orgy most nights." he shook his head. "It's a wonder The  
Alliance lasted as long as it did. The last thing anybody had on  
their minds was wrestling."

"That explains why a lot of them didn't bother to try coming back," I  
figured. "Especially since Vince started his no tolerance policy  
after X-Pac died." At Peter's surprised look, I asked, "You didn't  
hear about that?"

"Vaguely. I mean, I knew he died, but I didn't know how." Peter  
said. "So he was high?"

"More than high," I corrected. "Between the heroin and the  
painkillers, the doctors said it was a wonder he lasted as long as he  
did. And they found more in his bag; turns out he was selling to  
half the locker room. Vince cleaned house after that; random drug  
tests, background checks, the works." And no one had been exempt,  
not referees, not announcers, not backstage people. "It's why  
there's so many new faces. The minute you test positive for anything  
stronger than Tylenol and you're not seeing a doctor you're shown the  
door. No second chances, no rehab, nothing."

"He HAS gotten tough," Peter commented. "Always used to turn a blind  
eye before. Hell, he used to pass out the pills before."

"Not anymore." I switched lanes. "And it's helped, really. No more  
worrying about wrestlers unable to perform or having them turn  
homicidal when they come down from a bad trip."

A frown suddenly crossed Peter's face. "Sounds like you know." he  
said. "What happened?" I shook my head. "Mikey..."

"It was a long time ago," I said, gripping the steering wheel. "The  
guy isn't even there anymore; he died in prison before my case could  
come to trial." I forced myself to relax and smile at him. "I don't  
even have nightmares anymore about him. It's okay, Peter."

"Not okay." he replied stubbornly. "Not if you got hurt." A  
pause. "I should've been here."

"Nothing you could've done even if you had been, love." I said. "He  
got me in the parking lot after a show; you know me and my big  
mouth. I said the wrong thing at ringside and he was so jumped up on  
angel dust that all he could think about was beating me to a pulp.  
They had to literally knock him out to get him off me." A shudder  
went through me; at the time I had been glad that Peter wasn't with  
me.

I glanced over at him; his face was unreadable, but I could see the  
rage in his eyes. I put my hand over his. "Peter, it's okay. It  
was a long time ago."

"Still should've been here," he replied stubbornly. before I could  
contradict him he continued. "Did we lose anyone else?"

"Big Show died about two years ago; heart complications. Moolah had  
a stroke not long after that."

"Mae Young?"

I couldn't help smiling. "Still going strong. She's a tough old  
broad." I sobered suddenly. "And Jeff..."

"I heard about Jeff," he interrupted softly and we both fell silent.  
The younger Hardy had been a good friend to both of us. it had been  
sheer bad luck at Summerslam three years ago - Jeff had been doing a  
Swanton off the top rope onto Steven Richards and had landed wrong.  
It had been instant, at least; a small mercy. "How's Matty?"

"Matt left, went back to North Carolina," I explained. "he was there  
at ringside...and he saw..." I swallowed hard; I had been there too,  
calling the match and I still couldn't get the image of jeff sailing  
to his doom out of my head. "Steven Richards left, too. They ruled  
it an accident, but he felt so guilty..."

"Yeah," Peter agreed quietly. "Not surprised. Stevie had a thing for  
Jeff for years." At my shocked look, he nodded. "Worst kept secret  
I ever saw. I think the only person who didn't know was Jeff."

"That's not surprising, either. Matt and Jeff were so wrapped up in  
each other..." I didn't finish as I slowed down to take the next  
exit. "I try to see him whenever I get down there. Physically, he's fine,  
but everything else..."

"His heart's gone," Peter murmurred."I kinda know how that feels."  
he slid his hand over mine on the steering wheel.

I grasped it briefly before letting go. "Yeah, me, too."

We were silent as I pulled off the highway and turned a corner. After  
a moment, Peter took a look around and turned to me. "Uh, babe?  
Where are we going?"

"I figured we'd stop for a little bit," I said; I had noticed Peter  
unconsciously rubbing his knee and trying to stretch his leg. He  
must be aching badly right now. "Grab something to eat? Neither one  
of us had much breakfast and you know what they'll have at the  
arena. And there's still a lot of places to go down there to eat."

"Yeah," Peter grimaced. "Sounds good, babe. I need to get out  
anyway. Stretch my leg." This time he rubbed it in front of  
me. "I'm not up to long car trips anymore."

"It isn't far," I promised, speeding up a little. For him to admit  
being in pain...it had to be bad.

A little farther down the road and we came to where I had been  
planning to. Peter's eyes lit up when he saw it. "I'll be  
damned...this place is still here?"

I smiled. "Still here." I said as I pulled in. Peter had taken me  
to "Charlotte's" on my birthday and what had turned out to be our  
first date. Pulled out all the stops, too - candles, champagne,  
fabulous food and a heartfelt confession over dessert. Which had led  
to one of my own. Which had led to us necking in the car in the  
parking lot necking like a couple of oversexed teenagers.

"Pull into a spot in back," he instructed as I circled for a parking  
space nearby. Even for lunch it was crowded. At my puzzled frown  
Peter patted his knee. "Maybe I can walk off the ache, you know?"

I did as I was asked, although I was a little skeptical as I pulled  
into a space under a large oak tree. "Wait a minute. Let me get out  
and help you." I said as I undid my seat belt.

"I can manage," he said, but I also noticed he didn't move until I  
came over and offered him my arm.

He let out a heavy sigh when he finally got his feet securely under  
him. "Thanks, babe."

"Anytime." I didn't resist as he pulled me into a kiss.

A growl from my stomach broke us apart and we both burst out laughing.  
"C'mon, babe," Peter said, giving my hand a tug. "Let's feed you  
before you disappear."

An hour and a half later, and after a wonderful lunch, the two of us  
strolled back out to the truck. "You know something, babe? That was  
a good idea."

"Don't sound so surprised. I occassionally come up with one or two,"  
I indicated his knee with a nod. "How are you?"

He shrugged. "Better. It's still a little stiff, but not like it  
was."

I surveyed him critically; Peter's not above lying to keep from  
worrying me. But he was moving a little easier. Hopefully the pain  
pills he had taken before we ordered were kicking in; we still had a  
way to go.

We both climbed into the truck cab and I was jsut about to put my  
seat belt on when Peter pulled me close. "What are you doing?!"

He grinned. "What's it look like?" he asked, running a finger along  
my beard line. "I warned you, babe. I was gonna pounce on you  
eventually. Well, eventually's now."

"But...we're out in the open..." I breathed as he began trailing  
kisses down my neck.

"Why do you think I wanted you to park all the way out here?" he  
asked as his hand moved to the front of my jeans. he cupped my  
trapped erection and I couldn't help letting out a low groan. "It  
wasn't just because I needed the walk. Less of a chance of being  
seen." His grin became even wider. "Especially if I do this."  
Unzipping my fly, he took my cock out.

"Peter! We're gonna get...Oh, God!" I cried out as his mouth slid  
over my cock and he began to suck. It felt absolutely incredible,  
the feeling of warm wetness surrounding me, the slow caress of his  
tongue arousing me even further. I gave up trying to resist and  
threw my head back against the seat rest. We were far enough away  
from the restaurant and the other cars so that no once could see what  
we were doing. Besides, with the way Peter was sucking me, I knew I  
wasn't going to last very long.

I let out a whimper as he probed a particularly sensitive spot,  
cupping the back of his head with one hand while my other dug into  
his shoulder. "Peter, please..." I begged, squirming in my seat as  
his tongue swepy over the head of my cock over and over again. He  
was driving me out of my mind with how gentle, how loving he was  
being. "Oh God, love...please..."

I felt rather than heard him chuckle, the vibrations caressing my  
cock and making me jump. The sensation proved to be too much; I  
cried out, sending my come deep down Peter's throat.

He swallowed greedily, holding my hips as he drank me down. I was  
still shuddering as he licked me clean and gave me a final kiss  
before tucking me back into my jeans. "Hell of a lot better than the  
cheesecake I was thinking about," he commented with a grin as he sat  
up.

I cupped his face in my hands and gave him a long, deep kiss. "Thank  
you," I murmurred, smiling, more than a little dazed. "God, that  
felt good."

"I'm glad," he nuzzled my ear. "Been thinking about doing that to  
you since this morning. Hell, since I got back." he brushed another  
kiss along my temple. "Been awhile since I tasted you, baby."

I couldn't help blushing. "And it's been what, a day and a half  
since I tasted you?" I licked my lips, remembering. Peter has a  
flavor I can't describe, a warm, salty-sweet creaminess. It's  
addicting.

I reached for him, ready to give as good as I got. "Your turn."

To my suprise he stopped me before I got to his zipper. "No," his  
voice was gentle, but firm. "You don't have to."

"Who said anything about have to?" I asked, frowning a little. I  
LIKE loving him that way.

"I mean...I didn't do it just so I could get one in return," he  
clarified, squeezing my fingers. "That was for you, baby."

I was really confused now. I couldn't believe Peter was protesting  
this of all things. "And this is for you," I said gently, breaking  
his hold and putting a hand on his crotch.

To find...nothing. He wasn't aroused.

I looked up, really confused and more than a little afraid. "Peter?"

he shrugged and gave me a little smile as he moved his hand  
away. "It's okay, babe. Trust me, it's nothing you did." he  
paused. "I think it's a side-effect of the pain pills." the smile  
became a grin. "Plus you wore me out last night, babe. You gotta  
remember I'm older than you."

He was teasing me, trying to lighten the mood, but I wasn't having  
any of it. "Not that much older," I said. "And why did you do that  
if you weren't...you know..." I didn't finish.

"I wanted to." Reaching out, he ran a finger down my cheek. "Like I  
said, I've been thinking about it since I got back. Longer, even."  
He smiled. "One of the ten million things I missed about you."

How can I stay mad at him when he says stuff like that? "Okay,  
you're off the hook for now," I said, smiling as well. "But we're  
mentioning this when we go back to the doctor."

I expected an argument - at the very least a token protest. I didn't  
expect him to nod in complete agreement. "Okay, babe, sure."

My eyes widened. "Okay? You're actually agreeing with me?"

"Well...when you're right, you're right." Peter said, still smiling  
as he put on his seat belt. "I mean, the pills aren't gonna do any  
good if they kill everything else along without the pain." He brushed  
his fingers across my cheek again. "After all, gotta keep you  
satisfied. Wouldn't want you wandering off after I just got you  
back."

I snorted. I knew he was still teasing me, which is why I wasn't  
pissed off about that comment. "That's the last thing you have to  
worry about," I said as I put my own seat belt on. On an impulse, I  
leaned over and gave him a firm kiss. "And you satisfy me plenty."

He didn't have a comeback for that one, but I couldn't help grinning  
at the blush that darkened his cheeks. Or the hand that he planted  
possessively on my thigh the minute we pulled out of the parking lot.

Peter waited until we got back on the highway before the questions  
began again. "So who are champs now? I was too busy trying to keep  
all the new kids straight for it to register."

"Intercontinental's vacant right now; Christian was just injured two  
weeks ago." I answered.

"I remember that." His brow furrowed as he racked his brain. "On  
Raw. Against that kid...Cena, right?"

"Yeah. Christian won the battle but lost the war." I switched  
lanes. "They were talking about having a tournament for it at  
Survivor Series. Next week is too soon to start up anything. One of  
the Tough Enough kids just won Hardcore." I paused, trying to think  
of the kid's name. After a bit, I gave up. "For the life of me I  
can't remember who."

"You're getting old, babe," Peter teased. "Memory's the first thing  
to go."

I stuck out my tongue at him and continued. "Stacey Kiebler's  
Woman's champion..."

"Whoa!" His eyes widened. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. Not kidding. She's actually doing good." At his skeptical  
look I continued. "She is. Improved a lot since you've been gone.  
Learned a few new moves, put on some muscle. She even went down to  
OVW for awhile to train with the girls there." I paused. "Kurt  
Angle and his brother Eric are tag champs - Eric came over about two  
years ago. Rob VanDam is European champ, has been for about a year."  
I suddenly smiled. "And you're just going to have to wait and see  
whose Heavyweight."

"I already know who; that much I remember." Peter's voice was full  
of pride and rightly so. He was one of the current champion's  
trainers. "The kid looks good. How long has he had it?"

"Since Wrestlemania." I couldn't help feeling a little proud myself;  
way back when I had been on the selection committee for Tough Enough 1  
I had seen the raw potential in the young schoolteacher. "He's come  
a long way - Hardcore, Intercontinental, Tag champs with Al...now  
this."

"Damn. The kid's done it all in five years, hasn't he?" Peter  
murmured soberly. "Maven always was a good kid. Hungry, like I was  
about a million years ago." There was a pause. "Wish I could've  
seen him win."

I put a hand on his knee. "I know it's not the same, but I have the  
tape at home." I said quietly. "And he'll be there tonight."

"Will he? Be good to see him again, too." His next question was one  
I hadn't expected. "So whose sleeping with who?"

My eyes widened in surprise and I shot him a sideways glance. "I  
never thought you'd ask something like that.'

He shrugged. "Call it curiosity. You always know the backstage  
gossip and I'm catching up on five years worth."

"Not so much anymore," I admitted. "I'm not as close to the roster  
as I used to be. It's hard to find time before or after a show and  
on my off days I'd rather be home." I thought a moment, trying to  
remember the tidbits I had gotten from Lillian the last time we had  
met for lunch. "Bradshaw and Ron are still together even though  
they're not tagging anymore, but then I don't think anything could  
break those two up. Edge is switching back and forth between Kurt  
and Eric Angle." At Peter's surprised look I nodded and gave him a  
little shrug. "I know. The whole situation is a little weird."

"Adam never used to be like that." Peter commented. "He was  
always...you know...hearts and flowers."

"I know." Edge has a romantic streak in him that's ten miles wide.  
At least, he used to before the Angle brothers began screwing with  
his head. "Ever since he and Christian broke up he's  
been...different. And not in a good way. And after Jericho screwed  
him over he just got worse." I paused. "Lillian and Jackie adopted  
a baby girl from China. You should see the three of them together;  
they're absolutely beautiful." remembering something, I dug out my  
wallet and handed it to him. "There's a photo in there, I think."

Peter flipped through until he found it and a smile crossed his  
face. "They are beautiful," he agreed. "Don't think I've ever seen  
Lil happier." He flipped through the rest of the photos, smiling at  
the progressive ones of Sabrina, noting the one of my sister and her  
family without comment. Finally he came to the last one. "Where did  
you find this one?"

I smiled; I knew which one he meant. "It's a copy of the one I have  
on my desk." I said. "From the Christmas party. JR took it."

"Yeah, I remember," he said, still gazing at the photo of the two of  
us taken five years ago. After a moment, he handed the wallet back  
to me. "Miss the old guy."

"Yeah. Me, too." I switched lanes again, trying to think of more  
answers to Peter's question. "Billy Gunn left one day to be with  
Jesse during his rehab. Just up and vanished without any warning.  
Lita's seeing one of the new girls from OVW." I racked my brain for  
the name of the purple-haired girl I had seen backstage. "Renee?  
Rita? Rose? It began with an R, I know that much."

"Memory again," Peter teased.

"You try keeping straight the names of everyone on the roster,  
especially all the new faces that Vince keeps adding." I retorted  
good-naturedly. "It's not all that easy." I paused again. "Kane is  
still...he never got over X-Pac's death. If you don't want to get  
choke-slammed, don't mention him." I sped up a little to pass a slow-  
moving semi. "Coach is bragging about the fact that he and Raven are  
getting a little kinky."

"Birdboy and Coachman?!" Peter exclaimed. "No way."

"Yes, way, unfortunately." I grimaced. "Coach even showed me the  
handcuffs." I shook my head; the last thing I am is a prude, but  
there are just some things I do not need to know.

"You know, I'm surprised they didn't try putting you two together."  
Peter commented. "I mean, he's been here awhile, too."

"They did. Right after Karen died." My voice turned hard. "Lasted  
all of a week. He kept coming onto me and he wouldn't take no for an  
answer. Finally cornered me after a show and I had to give him one  
even he'd understand."

"What'd you do? Deck him?" Peter asked, curious.

"Nope. Kneed him in the crotch." I smiled. "He hasn't come near me  
since."

Peter stared at me for a moment and then he burst out laughing. It  
was infectious; I started laughing myself a moment later.

"That's all I can remember gossip-wise." I said, still  
chuckling. "You want any more, talk to Lillian. She's the queen  
these days."

We spent the rest of the drive going over story lines and different  
angles, with some tales from the past five years thrown in. Well,  
tales from me anyway; every time I tried to get one out of Peter he'd  
just shake his head and change the subject. Which I couldn't blame  
him for, really. I didn't want to remember being without him, either.

After awhile I pulled into the hotel parking lot and found a space by  
the entrance. "You booked us a room?" Peter asked, a little  
confused.

I nodded as I undid my seat belt. "Just for tonight. It's going to  
be late when we finally get done and we'll both be tired. And I  
definitely want to get cleaned up before we go on the air."

"Good point, babe. Didn't think of that." He suddenly gave me a  
lecherous little smile. "Been a long time since we shared a hotel  
room."

I couldn't help blushing as I remembered the last time. We hadn't  
even made it to the bed; Peter had jumped me the moment we walked in  
and we had ended up making love on the hotel room floor. "Yeah.  
Let's try to make it to a bed this time, okay?"

Peter laughed. "Okay, babe. We're both getting too old for the  
floor, anyway."

The two of us went inside and checked in. "The other guys aren't  
staying here, are they?" Peter asked as we headed for the elevator.

"I don't think so. Everyone else is by the airport." I hit the  
button and we stepped in. "Didn't want to bombard you all at once.  
Hope that was okay."

"Fine, babe. Good call." He paused. "I'm gonna need a little bit  
to get used to this."

"I figured as much." The last thing Peter needed on his first night  
back was everyone on the roster asking a million questions and  
screaming fans staking out the lobby.

Once we got into the room I dropped my bag, hung up the garment bag  
that had my suit jacket in it and immediately flopped down on the  
bed. I couldn't help letting out a heavy sigh. God, I was tired.

Peter sat down next to me. "You look beat, baby." He said, reaching  
down to brush the hair out of my eyes.

"We had a late night last night," I reminded him, closing my  
eyes. "Early morning today, and it's going to be another late one  
tonight." I opened my eyes a little and gave him a wan smile. "I  
don't know about you, but I need a nap."

"Sounds good to me." Kicking off his shoes, he leaned down and took  
mine off as well. "Just let me get the alarm. You get  
comfortable." He set the alarm on the bedside table before lying  
down next to me." "There. How's that?" he asked after pulling me  
into his arms.

I snuggled close, resting my head against his broad chest. "Mmm.  
Perfect." I fell asleep almost immediately.

******

The insitant buzz of the alarm clock woke me sometime later. It  
clicked off abruptly as I felt a feather light kiss against my  
temple. "Hey, baby."

I opened my eyes to see Peter smiling down at me. "Have a nice nap?"

"Yeah. You make a great pillow." We both laughed even as I pressed  
against him for a much more thorough kiss.

I was surprised when he growled and rolled onto his back, taking me  
with him. I was even more surprised when I felt his obvious  
desire. "Everything okay?" I asked, remembering the scene in the  
truck a few hours ago.

"For now, anyway," he said with a smile. His hands slid up my back,  
going under my shirt. "Do we have time?'

Smiling as well, I leaned down to both kiss him and tug at his t-  
shirt. "Definitely. I still need to pay you back for the truck." I  
silenced his protest with another hard kiss and a caress of my own.

Much later I watched as Peter tried to knot his tie. "Here. Let me  
do it." I said before he got frustrated enough to tear it to shreds.  
It was something I was good at doing; I used to do it before every  
time we had to get dressed up.

I tucked it into his vest and watched as he slipped on his suit  
jacket. I smoothed down his lapels and smiled. "You look wonderful."

He grinned and pulled me close. "You look pretty good, too, babe."  
he said. "How come you're all dressed up?"

I shrugged. "Your first night back...I wanted to look nice for you."

"Babe, you look nice no matter what you got on," he said sincerely.  
He made a show of looking me over. "But you look good enough to eat  
now."

I couldn't help blushing; I always do when he complements me. "Okay,  
knock it off. We don't have time for an encore."

"Later tonight?" he asked hopefully. "After the show?"

"Ask me later tonight," I said, tempering my temporary refusal with a  
smile. "You might want to do something with your old friends."

He gave me a leer. "Rather do you instead," he purred, sending a  
shiver down my spine.

I was going to kill him. God damn him for turning me on right before  
we had to walk out the door! "Peter!"

Chuckling, he pulled away completely. "Sorry, babe," he  
said. "Couldn't resist."

"Yeah, I bet you couldn't," I grumbled, giving him a mock scowl as I  
willed myself back under control. It wasn't easy; I've always had a  
weakness for Peter in a suit. He's just so damned irresistable in  
one. "Save it for later, thug boy."

He was still chuckling over that as we left the hotel and headed for  
the arena. The moment I pulled into the parking lot, however, the  
laughter stopped and an unreadable look appeared on his handsome  
face. Reaching over, I grasped his hand and squeezed. "Okay, love?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just memories, you know?" He gave  
a nod back the way we came. "I started over in ECW not too far from  
here. Philly's like my second home." he paused. "It feels a little  
weird after so long. Like I never left." A faraway look appeared in  
his eyes. "Twenty years."

I didn't say anything after that. I just let him have a moment to  
settle himself. Finally, he turned back to me and gave me one of his  
heart-melting smiles. "Okay, babe. Let's do it."

Climbing out of my truck we both went inside, heading for the room  
usually set up for the commentators. We didn't get more than ten  
feet before we both heard a voice in back of us.

"Fucking hell...Pete?!"

We both turned to see Tommy Dreamer standing in the middle of the  
hallway, mouth gaping open and a stunned look on his face. Peter  
smiled. "Yeah, Tommy, it's me," he said softly.

That was all Tommy needed. A moment later they were in each other's  
arms and Tommy was pounding on his back, giving him a loud smacking  
kiss on his cheek for good measure. "Where the fuck have you been?"  
he asked when he finally drew away. "We looked all over hell for  
you." He finally noticed the cane and his jaw dropped again. "And  
what the hell happened?"

"Blew out my knee teaching in Russia. That's the northern end of  
hell," Peter explained. He made a show of looking Tommy over and  
finally gave an approving nod. "You look good. They've been  
treating you okay?"

"Better than I've ever been. I've got a shot at European next  
week." Tommy grinned as he held up his hand. "Got married, too.  
Little one on the way."

A delighted look appeared on Peter's face. "Really? Congrats, man.  
Never would've thought you'd settle down."

"Yeah, me neither." Tommy paused. "So, are you sticking around or is  
this a one night thing?"

Peter shook his head. "I'm back for good." He nodded toward me. "Not  
in the ring. Back with Mikey at ringside."

Tommy looked at me and then back at Peter. "You two back together,  
too?" He didn't even wait for an answer before giving an approving  
nod. "That's good. You two always did belong together. And God  
knows he was a miserable bastard without you around, Pete."

"Thanks, Tommy," I said, my voice edged with sarcasm. I like the  
guy, I really do, but sometimes he doesn't know when to shut up.

"Don't take it like that, mike," Tommy shot Peter a grin. "He was a  
miserable bastard while we were in the Alliance, so it evens out."

"Thanks, Tommy," Peter said, using the exact same tone of voice I had.

"Hey, after the disappearing act you pulled you deserve to be razzed  
a little," Tommy shot back. He pointed an accusing finger at  
Peter. "You never should've left, man. Not without at least telling  
someone where you went. You scared the shit out of all of us doing  
that."

Peter ducked his head. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't realize.  
Didn't even think. By the time the Alliance went belly  
up...well...there wasn't much left of me. I just wanted to get as  
far away from all the bullshit as fast as possible." He looked  
up. "You know how it was...near the end."

After a moment, Tommy nodded. "Yeah...well...I can't blame you for  
that. Especially after all the crap they put you through." He  
paused. "Just...hell, Pete, next time you decide to disappear, let  
someone know where you end up, will ya?"

Peter smiled. "I don't think it's gonna happen again, Tommy." He  
looked over at me and the smile became even wider. "I'm home now."

A warm feeling spread through me. Those three little words meant  
more to me than anything else he's said since he's been back. It was  
the first time he had said that being here with me was home.

Tommy caught the look we traded and made a face. "I forgot how sugar-  
sweet you two were. I can see that hasn't changed." Tommy turned to  
me. "Are you done trading googly-eyes at each other? Can I steal him  
for awhile? Or do you need him for announcer stuff?"

I waved them off. "I don't need him just yet. Go ahead. Just  
return him about an hour before we have to go on."

"You sure, babe?" Peter asked. "I don't want to abandon you."

I laughed and shook my head. He wanted to go so badly; I could see  
it in his eyes. But he also didn't want to leave me with all the  
preparation. "You're not. Go ahead, love. Let Tommy introduce you  
to the new guys; he knows them better than I do." I gave him a  
gentle push toward Tommy, who had stood back a little to give us some  
privacy. "You know where they usually set us up. Nothing's  
changed. Just meet me there."

"Okay." To my surprise he leaned over and kissed me right in front  
of Tommy and whoever else happened to be passing. "Love you."

"Love you." I watched him head down the hall arm-in-arm with Tommy,  
a bemused smile on my face. The Peter he had been five years ago  
would never have done something like that out in the open, especially  
in front of one of his old ECW friends.

I shook my head and headed off in the other direction. The past  
five years had brought about a lot of changes for both of us, but I  
think I liked this one most of all.

Not too much later, as I was sitting in the room designated for the  
commentators and going over the night's line-up, I felt a nuzzle  
around my right ear. "Hey, babe."

"Hey, yourself." I leaned back and gave Peter a kiss. "You're back  
fast," I commented, glancing at the clock; he had been barely gone an  
hour.

"Some of the guys aren't here tonight. The Dudleys. Rob. They'll  
be at Unforgiven, though. I'll see them there." He rested his cheek  
against my hair. "Lot of new kids."

I nodded. "Especially on Smackdown. We've got a lot of the Tough  
Enough kids and the light Heavyweights." It made the matches a  
little more exciting to watch; I've always loved the high flyers. I  
frowned when I saw the far away look on his face. "What is it?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. It just feels weird, you know? I mean, I  
know the old guys couldn't stay forever, but seeing all the new  
faces..." He shrugged again, the look on his face telling me how  
frustrated he was. "I missed so much. And not just this..." He  
waved his hand to indicate the wrestlers, the WWF in general. "but  
everything."

"But you're back now," I said quietly, trying to sooth, trying to  
understand a little what he was going through. It had to be  
overwhelming. "You'll be caught up in no time and you won't miss  
anymore."

"I'm damn gonna make sure I don't." He kissed my hair for emphasis  
before sitting down next to me. "Tonight's show?"

"Yeah." I leaned closer so we could go over it together.

We stayed that way for over an hour, trading comments back and forth  
until it was time to head out to the ring. I got up and held out my  
hand. "Ready, love?"

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah." He took my hand and  
together we left the room, heading for the walkway under the ramp.

Right before we went through, however, he stopped and I turned to  
face him, concerned. "Peter?" he had an unreadable look on his  
face, as if he was trying to gather his courage for something. Stage  
fright, maybe? It wouldn't surprise me after so long. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said after a moment. "Just...before we do this, there's  
something else I gotta do." Unexpectedly, he took both my hands and  
pulled me into a dark corner. "I know I shouldn't be doing this now  
so close to showtime. Shoud've done it before, long ago." he  
paused, letting out a shaky sigh. "But if I don't do it now, I never  
will."

"Do what?" I asked, confused. He was beginning to scare me a little.

He squeezed my fingers; I had never seen him look so nervous, not  
even before we went to see Vince. "Just...let me get this out, babe,  
okay?" I kept silent as he continued. "A month ago I was all alone  
in a strange country, my knee blown out, my prospects gone, dead  
broke and ready to give up on everything. You don't know...how close  
I came to just...taking that whole bottle of pain pills, drowning it  
all in cheap vodka and just...leting go." Hr let out a deep  
shuddering breath. "I came so close, Mikey..."

"Love don't," I pleaded, tightening my hold on his hands. I couldn't  
stand to hear the despair in his voice. "Please, Peter...It's over  
now. You don't have to think about it anymore."

"I know, baby," he said softly. "Everything's different now. I've  
got a home...a family...I'm back doing work I love...with the man I  
love..." One hand reached up to caress my cheek and I leaned into  
the touch. "I'm happy again, baby, and I haven't been happy in a  
long time." He paused. "And it's all because of you." I was about  
to protest when he put his hand over my mouth. "No, let me finish.  
You have, Mikey. I had nothing...less than that...and you...you gave  
me my life back. I don't have the words...I can't say..." He  
stopped, ducking his head, the words obvious torture for him.

I just stood there, my eyes stinging, fighting back my own tears. I  
didn't know what I could say that would even begin to comfort him. I  
wanted to so badly, I wanted to say that everything was okay now, he  
was home and I'd never let him go again, but I couldn't find my  
voice. Usually you can't shut me up; where was my voice when I  
really needed it?

After a moment, Peter looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine. "I love  
you," hw whispered. "Mikey...baby...I love you so damn much." He  
reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out something I  
couldn't see right away in the darkness. He placed it in the hand he  
held - it was a small, worn velvet box. "Maybe this'll tell you how  
much."

I stared at it, my mouth dry, my heart pounding. Finally, I opened  
it and gasped. Inside, softly glowing rose gold in the dim light,  
was a wedding ring.

I looked up at Peter, the tears I had been fighting sliding unchecked  
down my cheeks as he continued. "It's Russian. I was coming back  
from the doctors after they passed judgement on my knee when I walked  
past this pawn shop and saw it in the window. The old guy running  
the place said it had been there forever. Thought I was crazy when I  
came in and actually bought it." he swallowed hard, his eyes never  
leaving mine. "But when I saw it, I immediately thought of you.  
Actually pictured it on your finger. That's when I knew...I knew  
then it was time to come home."

Home. It was the second time tonight that Peter had mentioned being  
around me as being home. And now this. It was almost too much for  
me to bear.

Unbidden, my mind brought up Sabrina's voice asking her Uncle Tazz if  
he was going to marry her daddy. It hadn't occurred to me than, but  
he had never given her an answer. Was he asking me because of that?  
Because of her?

Peter must've seen the panic in my eyes, because he cupped my face  
with his free hand, brushing the tears away with his thumb. "Not  
because of Sabrina. Don't think that. Don't ever think that." He  
paused. "You said...you told your sister that I was a part of your  
life now. That I was family. I want us to be...really...all the  
way. I want to spend the rest of my life making you and Sabrina as  
happy as the two of you have made me. I want to watch her grow up.  
I want us to grow old together. I don't want you and me and her  
anymore...I want us." Another hard swallow and I saw tears in his  
own eyes. "I love you both so much...I don't want to be without  
either of you ever again." His voice caught on the whispered  
words. "Michael...will you marry me?"

I reached up and mirrored his gesture, cupping his cheek, brushing  
away the lone tear that had escaped. "Yes," I breathed, finding my  
voice enough to utter the only word I needed to say. "Yes."

The most beautiful smile I had ever seen lit up Peter's face as he  
pulled me into his arms and gave me the hardest hug imaginable. I  
clumg to him as well, burying my face in his shoulder as I stifled a  
sob. For a moment I wished for Sabrina; it didn't feel all the way  
right without her. Well, tomorrow would be soon enough for that;  
for the moment, I had everything I could ever want.

I drew away a little, handing Peter the ring box. "Here. Put it  
on." I said, my voice shaking as much as my hands were.

Peter's hands were shaking as well as he took the slender band and  
slid it on my finger. "Well, I'll be damned. It fits," he said,  
surprised.

"Of course it does." It did, perfectly. Not even Karen's ring had  
fit me so well.

I squeezed his fingers. "We'll have to find you one."

"Whatever you want, babe," he said earnestly. "A church, a preacher,  
me in a penguin suit in front of all of our friends...anything you  
want." He paused. "I want this right for you."

My heart melted. Sniffing, I shook my head. "You darling idiot," I  
said, smiling through my tears. "It already is." For emphasis, I  
pulled him into a kiss.

We stood like that for I don't know how long, locked together in the  
most perfect kiss imaginable, oblivious to everything around us. I  
could have stayed there forever, wrapped in his arms, lost in his  
kiss, the reality of the rest of our lives together slowly sinking in  
little by little.

It had to end, though. We had a show to do. Slowly, we drew away  
from each other, both of us sniffling. "Okay, Mikey?" Peter asked  
softly.

I nodded, swiping at the tears with the back of my hand. "Better than  
okay," I said softly as I reached up to brush Peter's away as  
well. "I love you, too, you know."

"I know." He took my hand with the ring on it, kissing it before  
letting me go completely. He nodded toward the curtain. "We gotta  
get out there."

Back to business. Don't ask me how I was going to be able to call a  
show after all this, but I owed it to Peter to try. I took a deep  
breath and nodded. "I'm ready. You?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Peter answered, his voice strong,  
confident. He looked ready for anything. "Let's do it, babe."

Together we walked through the curtain and came out under the ramp  
along the security railing. Coming out any other way was out of the  
question; the ramp would've been far too hard on Peter's knee and  
with him not wanting any fuss it was just as easy for the two of us  
to walk along the edge of the crowd. I caught the whispers of some  
of the older fans as we passed and smiled; we hadn't leaked the news  
of Peter's return to ringside to any of the usual people or put it up  
on the website. Everyone was in for a big surprise when I made my  
announcement at the top of the show.

As we sat down at the announcer's table in front of the ring, a brief  
burst of cheers came from one of the nearby upper levels. Grinning,  
I turned around and waved and the cheers grew a little louder. not  
to brag, but there's a small but very loyal group of women who follow  
me - don't ask me why. They're scattered all over the country, but I  
tend to see the same faces in the same cities. Philadelphia is one  
of those cities - in particular, there's a redhead who always wears a  
button-covered jacket and a "Thug Superstar" T shirt. She never  
misses a show.

"One of your fans?" Peter teased as he reached for his headset.

A silly grin crossed my face; God, it felt so good hearing him tease  
me! "I have a couple," I defended good-naturedly. Nudging his  
shoulder, I pointed to the upper level where the cheering had come  
from. "So do you still. Look."

He looked up and stared. The button-wearing redhead was hanging over  
the railing, wearing her orange t-shirt and waving a sign that  
read "Welcome Back Tazz!" in giant rainbow colored letters. "Damn,"  
he muttered. "After all this time, they still remember."

"She does," I said quietly. "I see her every time we come to Philly.  
Usually her sign says "Come back, Tazz. We miss you." And she's not  
the only one; there are a few every Smackdown." I paused,  
grinning. "Go ahead. Give her a thrill."

He did. A grin appeared on his own face as he stood up and waved up  
at her. She let out a little shriek and waved back.

He sat back down. "God, I missed this," he said feverently, looking  
around at the myriad of fans, the guys putting the finishing touches  
on the ring, the cameramen and the photographers standing close  
by. "It hasn't changed at all, has it?"

"Not really. Not in the main ways." I opened the binder lying there  
and checked my notes. "Nervous?"

He shrugged. "A little. Mostly 'cause I've been away so long. but  
it feels familiar, too, you know?" he paused, biting his lip. "I  
just hope I don't make an ass out of myself, that's all."

"I won't let that happen," I promised. What I really wanted to do  
was pull him close and kiss his fears away. I settled for reaching  
over and squeezing his fingers. He gave me a grateful little smile  
and squeezed back.

We watched the dark matches in companionable silence, with Peter  
asking questions now and again about the newer wrestlers. I answered  
them as best I could, but sometimes I knew as much as he did. All  
the new kids looked good, though; a little more polish and they'd be  
ready for some TV time.

Finally, the arena darkened in preparation for the pyro signalling  
the beginning of Smackdown. "Ready, love?" I whispered, leaning  
close.

He let out the breath he was holding and smiled. "Ready, babe."  
Reluctantly, he let my hand go.

Bright lights flashed, sparks flew, explosions lit up the First Union  
Center and the fans began cheering wildly and waving their signs as  
the lights came up. The cameraman facing us gave us a thumbs up and I  
knew we were on.

"Tough Enough champions clash for the first time ten days before  
Unforgiven here at the First Union Center in Philadelphia tonight on  
Smackdown!" I announced, making sure my voice could be heard over the  
din of the crowd. "I'm Michael Cole here at ringside and joining me  
is an old friend." Grinning, I turned to Peter and held out my  
hand. "Tazz, welcome back."

He grinned as well, shaking my hand for the benefit of the  
camera. "It's great to be back, Michael. Back where the action is at -  
here on Smackdown."

"For those of you who don't know, Tazz is a former WWF superstar and  
was my broadcast partner several years ago." I informed the crowd  
and the viewers at home. "And I for one am very glad to have him  
back here at ringside where he belongs." I paused, turning back to  
my partner, my lover, my soulmate in every sense of the word. "It  
hasn't been the same without you."

There was a wealth of meaning in that sentence and Peter caught it  
all. "Well, all I can say is that I'm back for good, and it's about  
damn time." he said. "It's been too long. And it's great to be  
home."

Home. That one four letter word was enough to send my heart and soul  
soaring. remembering where we were, I turned my attention back to  
the wrestlers entering the ring, but my one hand reached under the  
table to clasp Peter's.

He wasn't the only one who had come home after so long. We both  
had. To each other. A fact made plain when he squeezed my fingers,  
brushing against the gold band he had placed there.

We stayed like that for the rest of the night; hands joined, eyes  
straying to each other every so often, trading comments back and  
forth, calling the matches in perfect tandem. The perfect beginning  
to the rest of our lives together.

If that's not a miracle, then I don't know what is.


End file.
